


The Magpie and the Rook: A Braeda/Chris Collection

by SonjaJade



Series: Whatever it Takes [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-07 17:45:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 45,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My favorite non-canon pairing, Heymans Braeda and Madame Christmas Mustang, have lots of short drabbles and contest pieces written for them. This is a place to put all of my stories regarding them. Definitely a companion piece to "Whatever It Takes".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So Crystalline...

**Author's Note:**

> **_REGARDING THIS COLLECTION:_** Many pieces within are going to be fluffy, and some may even be NSFW. I just needed a single place to put all of my Braeda/Chris pieces so that when I introduce a new reader to the pairing, I can give out 1 link instead of 20. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. Happy reading! This first chapter is the contest piece that started it all...

Manipulation I made because I love them so much together!

 

 **Title** : So Crystalline…  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 249  
 **Rating** : M  
 **Character(s)** : Madame Christmas/Braeda  
 **Summary** : It's easy to be invisible in a whorehouse full of beauties…  
 **Warnings** : The mental image of Christmas servicing Braeda is probably enough to choke a maggot. If you can't handle that then don't read lol  
 **Author's Notes** : I really like Braeda, and I just love Madame Christmas, and when I was in the shower (my musing place) I had this idea and just could not stop running with it. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Christmas Mustang had been a whore since she was fifteen years old, running away from home and lying about her age in order to work at the finest whorehouse in New Optain. The girl learned _all_ the 'ins and outs' of the trade, and was a professional in every aspect of fucking and fantasy. She'd even honed her sleuthing skills, became a well paid informant, and then passed those skills on to the girls who worked for her now. But, it was lonely at the top, and now that she was nearing fifty and twice her size, she didn't see much action, in either sense. But tonight…

She was on her knees, her mouth full of raging masculinity, his fingers gently threaded in her dark hair. "God, yessss…" he hissed, one of her 'son's' subordinates, the one with the stocky build. "That's it, take it _allllll_ Christmas…"

' _Me? Why?' she laughed._

' _Because I want my money's worth.'_

' _But I'm old, Braeda-boy! Why not Vanessa or-'_

' _I want_ **you**. _'_

She hadn't seen eyes like that in her direction in a long time, eyes that made you feel like the only one in the room; not invisible.

And Braeda didn't just lie back and let her make her money, he gave as good as he got. When _she_ _came_ _first_ , she had to fight the grateful tears that burned behind her eyes. She hadn't been forgotten.

"Thank you…" she whimpered, clenching.

"That's my line!" Braeda grunted as he filled the rubber.


	2. Second Round

***I don't own the series Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within***

* * *

It had been nearly a week since that Lieutenant that worked for her 'son' had come in, and she was still thinking about him. What a puzzle… He came in out of nowhere, but had full knowledge of who she was and what she did for a living, and seemed determined to have her. And God above, did he have her. Christmas had been with more than her share of men, both good and bad in bed. But the whole time she was with him, she kept feeling in her gut like this wasn't the same, that this was different… Even though he'd paid her well (16,000 C, almost triple what she would have asked him for), she couldn't help that feeling that… well… that he wasn't _fucking_ her; he was _making love_ to her.

Any well versed whore, hooker, prostitute, concubine or mistress can tell you: **don't get attached.** The world those women (and some men) live in doesn't allow much room for things like 'love' and 'romance'. It's business. It's letting money spread your legs and your john being your business card. Yes, there are some nice johns; some of them are really sweet and it breaks your heart to know that someone like that can't find a decent woman to keep for longer than the standard hour. But for every decent one, there's a handful of 'desperados', ones who're just looking for a decent fuck with no strings attached, and there's even some who are dangerous and will pay extra for the privilege to beat and hurt.

But this Braeda character… Just remembering how his hands felt in her hair as she blew him gave her goosebumps. He hadn't yanked on her hair, hadn't held her face still and shoved himself down her throat. He'd been gentle and let her set the pace on that part of their hour. And when they moved on to the bed, he wouldn't let her get on top. He actually thanked her for giving him the best blowjob he'd ever had, and told her he was going to return the favor… His thrusts weren't meant for his enjoyment, _but hers_. When he suckled at her sagging breasts ground his pubic bone against her clit, it was to steal _her_ breath and make _her_ gasp in ecstasy. He seemed to get off watching _her get off_ , and it was the most reciprocating session the Madame had ever had in her entire career.

She lit a cigarette and tended bar for a while, thoughts of that night making reminiscent tingles shoot through her guts and triggering a wetness that she thought she couldn't make on her own anymore. When the bell at the door rang signaling another customer walking in, she didn't even look up, just barked out over her shoulder, "What can I get ya?"

She heard the rustle of a coat coming off and being hung up on the rack in the corner, then the creak of the leather seat on one of the barstools. "I was hoping I could get seconds."

Chris' breath hitched and her eyes widened. She turned around and saw her son's well fed lieutenant smiling at her, and her stomach flipped. "Again?" she asked quietly.

He grinned even wider, "Well sure, why not?"

She kind of scowled and said, "Surely you want Vanessa this time. Or maybe even India, she's a feisty one, I'm sure she'd be right up your al-" He was shaking his head. Chris walked over to him and leaned down. "What is wrong with you? I offer you my best girls and you turn 'em down!"

Braeda's hand slipped up over hers. "We both know _you're_ the best girl in the house, Madame. And besides," his thumb stroked the back of her hand slowly. "That was the most incredible sex I've ever had. The only way it could have been more perfect is if we'd been on the moon and the planets were in alignment. I wanna be with you again." His dark brown eyes were smoldering, and the butterflies surged in her old belly. Then a look of horror crossed his face. "Wait, do you not _want_ to be with me? I mean, I won't _make you_ , if that's how you feel. I'll admit I was a little rusty…"

' _A little rusty! Is he_ kidding _!'_ she thought to herself. But what she said was, "No, you were fine, Braeda-boy. I just though you might wanna sample the rest of the menu was all." She poured him a beer from the draft line. "Here, it's on the house. I have to find someone to watch the bar for me, I'll be right back."

The large woman seemed to shuffle into a storage room, where Braeda assumed there was a giant sink for washing the glasses. He took a long drink of his beer and wondered why she was acting so weird. He liked her the way she was normally, he didn't care for this uncharacteristic nervousness and unsettled air about her. He hadn't seen anyone act like that since he was in high school, when a girl liked a guy-

"Uh oh…" he said aloud to himself. Granted, Braeda might not have been around the block as many times as the Madame (not by a long shot, he was fairly certain of that), but even _he_ knew the dangers of a woman of ill repute getting a crush on one of her customers. But he felt a crush of his own tickling in the recesses of his mind. Sure, she wasn't really anything to look at. She was twice his age, had a masculine set jaw line and sharp cheekbones, her voice was rough and marinated in nicotine and sour mash… However, Christmas was genuine, until you put money in her hand. But even when he had paid for her, she seemed to retain a bit of that genuine personality, not completely giving it up for the fantasy persona he'd seen her don before. So from the beginning, Christmas had let him within her walls (literally as well).

And now she was giddy and nervous and probably trying to find a way to weasel out of the sale if she had any kind of gumption. She knew the dangers of getting attached, no doubt. He wondered which she would choose though: discretion, or self indulgence.

Chris popped out from the room she'd gone into a few minutes ago, this time with a stacked redhead in tow, the one called India. "Alright, let's go on up, Braeda-boy." He could see in her eyes that she was mentally kicking her own ass for doing this, but the allure of someone touching her in a sweet way like he did must have been the stronger of the two instincts.

They went up a narrow staircase and she led them to a room at the end of the hall. It was small; a bed, a wash basin and pitcher, a few small towels and lots of satin and velvet, all in colors of purple, black and red. Chris shut and locked the door, and then shrugged out of her long coat and draped it over what looked like a quilt rack, but was obviously for sitting clothes on.

Braeda began unbuttoning his vest, watching as she seemed to fidget. "Is this alright, Madame? You seem a little nervous." He didn't even hear what she said… All he saw was that disingenuous smile and it irritated him. She was about to peel her dress/slip off when he stopped her. "Sit down for a minute."

He sat next to her, the springs under them groaning under their combined weight. "Listen. I will admit that when I first came to you, it was business as usual. But even then, I've always liked you. You're an awesome broad, stronger than many men I know mentally, and anyone able to raise up a guy like Roy… You're incredible." She listened with a stoic expression, not letting him see any of her reactions to the words he was spilling to her, just as he expected her to. "But then when we came up here… I dunno, something changed. I expected you to give me that full-on fantasy, and it wasn't like that. At least for me it wasn't. I felt like it was really _you_ in here with me. And here we are again and you're acting like you're gonna jump out of your skin. You're acting like the girls do in high school when they're trying to play it cool around a guy they like." Slowly, he let his hand find hers. "I know you're not supposed to like me. I know you're not supposed to get attached to any one man… Though I'll admit, I kinda wish you could."

Chris sighed through her nose. "Well wish in one hand and shit in the other, they say." She offered him a real smile, saying, "Well, I guess we better get on with it, India won't tend bar forever." She watched as the man beside reached into his back pocket for his wallet and she squeezed his hand. "No charge, Braeda-boy. I might not be able to get attached to you, but that doesn't mean I can't give you a discount from time to time. Besides, last time you gave me enough for 3 more visits." She stood up and removed the magenta silk, revealing a black brocade bustier and matching garter belt, panties and stockings. She turned to face him and made to get on her knees…

"Nope, up on the bed, Madame." She narrowed her eyes at him then shrugged. Her large body jostled the bed as she climbed in on her hands and knees, then turned and laid back against the mountain of pillows. Braeda, now down to his boxers and socks, knelt between her legs, helping her tug her panties off. He leaned down and placed wet kisses along her neck and to the tops of her big breasts. His large hands gripped her hips firmly as he ground through his boxers against her well groomed femininity. When she finally relaxed and began to sigh and gasp under his touch, he moved further down her body, kissed her belly as he pushed her thighs apart, and Christmas suddenly sat up.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Braeda peered up at her from just above her pubic bone. "What?"

" _I'm_ supposed to go down on _you_ , remember?" She had an expression of shock on her face, like she'd caught him doing something terribly taboo.

"But…" he said as he held her gaze. "I like the taste of pussy…" Her brow furrowed in confusion as he continued, "Besides, you did that last time. Let's switch it up tonight." And before she could protest any further about it, he dipped his face to her flushed folds and feasted for all he was worth. He felt her flop backwards on the bed, then a very satisfied moan filled his ears and he growled in delight against her. He made love to her woman's place with his mouth, flicking and laving and probing her with that devilish tongue of his. Her fingers were tender in his hair, making soft pulls and tugs but nothing harsh. When he shoved her into that hot white light of sheer pleasure, she cried out to God and did her best to keep from clamping her meaty thighs over his ears. Braeda eased off, letting her slowly come down. He grabbed a rubber from the decorative bowl on the small nightstand and slid his boxers off.

"Are you gonna let me fuck you this time?" she asked, sitting up.

"Only if you want to, I have no problem taking you right there."

She shook her head and smirked. "Which one do you prefer?"

"Honestly, I like watching your face when I do the work," he grinned. "You've fucked enough johns in your time, it's about time someone repaid you." He rolled the rubber down and gave a few teasing strokes to himself. "I only ask you to do one thing for me."

"Anything you want, this is your fantasy," she husked.

"First of all, it's _our_ fantasy. Second, I want you say my name every time you come."

"Every time?" she gasped as he entered her and began to push himself in and out of her body.

"Every," _SLAM!_ "Single," _SLAM!_ "Time." _SLAM!_ One hand planted near her dark head and the other slipped around and under her wide ass. Her arms fell around his shoulders as he dug in deep, and over the sound of the bed squeaking came a load groan-

"Braaaaeeddaaaaa!"

He could feel her clenching around him, felt her temperature rise inside her close channel, could tell by the way every muscle in her body went taut and shook… She might have been old and not much to look at, but she really was a work of physiological art to him, and his gut fluttered with pride and desire at how easily his name fell from her open, painted mouth. "Yes, that's it, Christmas," he cooed as the tension in her body seemed to ease a little bit. "This is for both of us, old girl. We're both gonna have a good time."

"So good," she panted. "I think I'll start paying you instead."

Masculine laughter rang through the room, "If I pay you, and you pay me, then we end up even, I'd say!" He changed his angle and suddenly she was crying out with everything she had, nearly singing (in that dark brown voice she had). "God, Braeda! Oh damn, please don't stop!" Not long after that she was yelling his name loud enough for the people downstairs to look up at the ceiling and smirk.

"How do we get this off?" he asked as he tugged a little on her bustier.

"Laces… in the back!"

He paused within her. "Sit up with me." He felt grab on to tightly, then he reared back to sit on his knees with her straddling him. "Just grind, I'll undo it." He reached behind her and tugged at the shoestring like lacing and felt the line go slack. As if he were unlacing his military boots, he tugged and pulled on every crisscross at her back. He looked down to see her hand working fast little circles over her clit as she gripped him over and over inside.

Finally, he'd gotten the thing loose enough that she could pull it over her head, and her big breasts flopped down between their heaving bodies. Braeda laid her back down and made up for taking so long by spearing into her special spot inside fast and hard, taking a moment to bend down and grab a nipple between his lips as he did so. He felt her seizing up again, this time trembling with the intensity of it, and he knew she couldn't take too much more of this.

"Braeda," Christmas gasped. "This isn't right, you shouldn't be worried about me. You should come and not work so hard for my benefit."

"Are you kidding?" he asked, slowing his movements and trying to catch his breath. "I'm having a great time, aren't you?"

She looked at him through hooded eyes. "Can you keep a secret?" He raised his eyebrow at her. Of course he could keep a secret. He'd known about Roy's plans for the coup for nearly six months before it went down. She grinned a little in embarrassment. "Grumman is the only other person who's requested me in over fifteen years. He never once… never once made sure I-"

"Shh… Let's not talk about that old man. Let me love you, alright?" He brushed the ends of her ponytail from her cheek. "This is the grand finale! Think you can handle me one more time?" She nodded as her soft hands came to his shoulders.

"I sure hope so." She wanted to kiss him. It was like she needed the taste of lips like water in the desert… But that was an even bigger no-no, and she was already in further than she wanted to be with him anyway. But she found herself staring at his slightly opened mouth, and wishing she had the guts to reach up and claim them with her own.

It was her eyes he was watching as he moved within her. Her every thought could be read in the green tones of her irises and he saw her internal conflict. Braeda wasn't sure how many more times she would allow him to come to her, as attached as they _both_ were getting… But he was damn sure going to enjoy the experience for as long as she let him. There was an expression of awe, of innocence there too… like she'd never been just _loved_ before.

And that was when he realized- he might have paid her (only once), but he wasn't using her the way whores were accustomed to be used. He'd made this something worthwhile for both of them… Both times, _he'd made love to her_. It wasn't the usual 'here's-500 C-and-wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am'. This had been (short of the absence of kissing) something people in love did… Oh hell… he was in just as deep as she was then. He wondered how long it would take for them to put an end to this silliness. But as he felt her internal fist begin to quiver and his imminent release barreling down, he found he didn't really want to put an end to it if it meant feeling like this over and over again.

"Coming! Coming- GOD YESSS! BRAEDA, YESS!" she cried out, bucking and jerking like an epileptic having a seizure. The man between her legs was huffing and coming too, she could tell by the rhythmic pulses that came from the erupting flesh inside her. When Braeda pulled out, he reached down and pulled the rubber off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into the can before lying down on top of her, his face nestled between her breasts while the two of them tried to catch their breath.

"Braeda?"

"Mmm?" He felt long, manicured nails rake slowly ( _lovingly_ ) through his sweaty hair.

"Please don't stop asking for me."

Heavy arms that had been flopped over the edges of the bed now slid up along Chris' sides, his hands resting almost possessively over her tits. "Of course, Madame." The caresses to his scalp suddenly turned painful.

"And next time, I'm on top. No arguments."

He kissed the valley between her boobs where the string of pearls and gold herringbone chain lay, then rested a little longer there, taking in her smell, her warmth. "Alright."


	3. Back in the Black

**Title** : Back in the Black  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 963  
 **Rating** : PG-13  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda, Madame Christmas  
 **Summary** : The numbers **do not** look good.  
 **Warnings** : Innuendo, post canon.  
 **Author's Notes** : A sort of continuation of "So Crystalline…", though you don't have to read it in order to understand this fic.

* * *

Not even a year in the new place and already the walls of her office needed a good scrubbing down. Smoke and tar stained the cream walls a deep beige, and the lingering scent was enough that even Havoc would probably cough. Undaunted by the sticky glass covered prints on the wall, Chris lit another cigarette and poured herself another shot from the bottle to her left.

The numbers were not good. They hadn't been good for a while. She wasn't sure what had happened to change it, but the new establishment had been declining ever since it had opened its doors. Now, they'd finally fallen into the red, and never having been in the situation before, she had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Everything's done, Madame," Jerrica said quietly as she poked her head around the doorframe. "You need anything else before I cut out?" Chris didn't even answer, just waved her hand dismissively as fresh smoke swirled around her dark head. She poured over the last six months, trying to find a some kind of logical reason for the decline of business, checking the dates against new alcohol shipments, patterns of the busiest nights… the frequency of people still asking for the 'private rooms'.

"Hey you," came a man's voice. She blinked and looked up to find Heymans Braeda standing in her doorway with a brown bag that smelled delicious. "Why don't you get out of this filthy fuckin' office and get something to eat, Madame." She stubbed her smoke out and smiled at him. Just the distraction she needed.

"I wish you wouldn't go through the trouble of feeding me," she said as she accepted his kiss on the back of her hand. "I know a Lieutenant's pay isn't much, even now that the state had stopped embezzling tax funds into their immortal legion project."

"Shut up and eat the damn sub, wouldja?" he grinned. They wandered out to the bar and he made her sit down while he went behind and pulled two beers from the refrigerated chest below. He snapped the tops off and then opened the bag, pulling out two styrofoam containers. "You want the meatball or the philly cheese steak?" She chose the latter and he carved it in half to make it easier to eat, then came back around and sat beside her, taking a huge bite of his own sandwich. "Huumnnun unny?" he said around a meatball.

"Does it feel funny?" she smirked.

He sighed through his nose, chewing and chawing and trying to swallow some of the giant mouthful he had so he could repeat what he said. "Iff ef ah unny?"

"It's in my cunny? I had no idea you had one, Braeda-boy!" she laughed.

Though Heymans was getting irritated at her not taking him seriously, he was relieved to see that she'd left that serious scowl of hers in the office. It made him happy to hear her giggle in her smoky voice. Finally able to swallow his bite, he said with a grin, "Is it the money!"

Christmas picked her beer up and took a swig. "Yeah. We're in the red now."

"Roy know about it?"

She fiddled with her lighter and shook her head. "Roy-boy's got enough on his shoulders right now without having to worry about a 2 bit bar. I just wish I knew why the patronage was down…"

Braeda's brow furrowed. "Hmm. Must be that new burst of morality ever since the Promised Day came." He wiped his chin. "Many men are now happy to go home to their wives and kids, because they might never see them again if something like that were to ever happen a second time."

"Still, the single guys don't even come by anymore. Nobody's been bringing dates by or having a bad day at work and drown their sorrows in the bottom of an endless pint… I don't know what to do about it."

Braeda looked around. "Well, maybe you could dress the place up a little. Maybe offer food, or maybe entertainment. I bet people would come in to hear live music or see a comic or a ventriloquist or something. Give them a reason to come here instead of another corner bar. Think outside the bar-box."

The Madame nodded, finally biting into her sandwich. She chewed and then swallowed, then said, "You might be onto something there. But where would I find someone to come in and perform? Where would they do it? How would I pay them when I won't even turn a profit this month?" She felt a hand fall soft on her shoulder and she looked up with defeated eyes at her friend.

"Relax, Chris. I've got some connections, we'll figure this out, okay?" He gave her a squeeze.

She stared at sweating bottle in front of her. "Why do you care so much?"

Heymans smiled sweetly at her and cupped her cheek. "Because you're my friend, sweetheart. You're a good woman with a good business, and I wanna help." He saw that pitiful look come across her face, and she was getting ready to say something, about how he didn't need to trouble himself, probably. He stood up and grabbed her hand, tugging her off the barstool and her sandwich still steaming.

"Forget the bar, let's get _you_ back in the black."

"What!" she squealed as she followed him.

"I won't put up with this sorry attitude, young lady! I'm taking you upstairs to fix this!"

It was a good thing no one was around. The bed crashed into the floor under their combined weight, but they went on anyway. About an hour later, both the bar and the Madame were back on track, and Braeda became the Christmas Inn's first business partner.


	4. Breaking Glass

**Title** : Breaking Glass  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 500  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Christmas, Roy  
 **Summary** : Roy confronts Braeda about his relationship with Aunt Chris  
 **Warnings** : Violence, language, implied smexy times  
 **Author's Notes** : It was bound to happen sooner or later… Goes with my So Crystalline universe.

* * *

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING HER?" the dark headed man roared as he nearly choked his subordinate.

"Roy! Let me.. go!" Braeda pleaded, his eyes desperate as he fought to breathe. "Please!"

"SHE'S MY DAMN AUNT, BRAEDA!" He reached into his pocket, pulling out his gloves but unable to put them on one handed. Before he could even order the lieutenant to stay still so he could don them, he heard the unmistakable sound of Christmas' derringer pistol cocking.

"If you don't wanna sing with the angels Roy-boy, I suggest you back away from him." She heard him swallow. Slowly he dropped his hands and Braeda fell to the floor, sucking wind down into his burning lungs and thanking God that Chris never went anywhere without that little gun wedged between her tits.

"How long has this been going on," Roy asked grimly.

"Why's it matter, Roy-boy?" she said as she uncocked the gun and jammed it back into her dress. "Don't you trust your own Lieutenant?"

"He's my friend, and you're my only family. It's not appropriate." He bent down to retrieve his gloves when Chris' size 11 wide stomped down on them.

"You're not doing any of that in here, mister." She picked them up and handed them to Braeda. "Give them to Riza, she's outside." She caught his eyes. "I'll send him out when we're done, okay?" He nodded, and the bell at the door alerted them that he was gone.

"You always were such a hothead," she quipped as she dragged on her cigarette. "Flame Alchemist, indeed."

"Why _him_?"

"Would you rather it be Grumman? He _was_ my best customer… until Braeda came."

Roy looked as if he'd be sick. "I don't want to know anything about Braeda coming."

She smirked. "Shame. It's a wonderful experience."

"Please shut up," he groaned into his hands.

"Of course," she said, flipping her ashes onto the floor. "But you really should have a little more respect for the man who's paying half the bills around here."

"What?" Roy asked as he looked up at her.

"He's my partner. Both romantically and professionally. If you can't accept that… Well, you know where the door is."

He thought for a moment. "And he's really helping you out here?" He'd been worried about her club, though he didn't say anything.

"Yep."

"I see," he said. "My deepest apologies." He looked away from her for a moment. "Does he make you happy?" Her genuine smile was all he needed to see. "I better apologize to Braeda. But if he does anything to hurt you-"

Chris pointed at the butt of the derringer and they both chuckled. "I got it, Roy-boy. You just concern yourself with the rebuilding of Ishval and getting Riza to give me some grandchildren." She liked the way he blushed as he hurried for the door. Served him right, talking about appropriateness like that. "Betcha busted a few panes in that glass house, huh Roy-boy?" she said to herself.


	5. The Rook's Gamble

**Title** : The Rook's Gamble  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 987  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Christmas  
 **Summary** : Braeda and Chris decide where they're going with their relationship, and a few firsts come with the decision.  
 **Warnings** : none  
 **Author's Notes** : Ever had a fight with someone, and when it was over you thought about how they came to the conclusion they had? Kinda like a putting yourself in their shoes type thing to change your perspective on the situation? I think Braeda has one of those moments after his run in with Roy. Direct sequel to "Breaking Glass".

* * *

Braeda sat in Christmas' office, entering in the days numbers into a worn out and scotch-stained ledger. He sat squinting over the page with a ruler so he wouldn't skip a column on accident or enter something in the wrong row. He looked up when the sound of clicking heels stopped in front of him.

"Y'oughtta get your eyes checked Braeda-boy."

"Yes, Mommy," he teased.

She sauntered in and dropped elegantly down in the Queen Anne style chair across from him, lighting a cigarette and watching him do what she no longer could. Just opening the pages caused her hand to automatically reach for the scotch in the bottom drawer of her desk. "How's it looking?" she tried to ask casually.

He only looked at her. "I told you, no news is good news. You gotta trust me." He went back to it, glancing occasionally at a clipboard with various figures on it. "But since you asked, it's slowly getting better. It just needs time. We'll be alright, Chris."

She smiled at him. "I like the sound of that."

Moving the ruler over a column, he said, "Turning a profit always sounds good."

"I didn't mean that, I meant the 'We'll be alright, Chris' part. Makes me feel, I dunno, like I'm being well taken care of." His eyes met hers. "It's very reassuring to hear that from you. Thank you."

Heymans laid the pen down. "Hey, uh… I've been thinking…"

"Oh lord," Christmas sighed as she blew fresh smoke past her wine colored lips.

Braeda rubbed briefly at his eyes for a moment, then resumed his thoughts. "Roy… he thinks we're a couple. I mean, I guess we sorta are, but we've never discussed where this is going, or what we want out of this." He fidgeted with a button on his shirt. "Maybe we should define what's going on between us."

Christmas dragged on her cigarette. "Alright." She stood and closed the door, then pressed a hidden button on her desk lamp. "Scrambles the surveillance." She then paced the room as she proceeded to answer him.

"Braeda-boy-" she shook her head. "Heymans. I'm not a sentimental woman by nature. You know that. I don't put a lot of value in sweet words or grand empty gestures. I trust my guts and I make a living reading people." She leveled her gaze at him. "I've been with so many men, and I know they all came from the same cookie cutter. But you… You're the most genuine man I've ever encountered. I love our discussions and I enjoy spending time with you. I love when we go upstairs and break the beds one by one," she said as they shared a grin, recalling the mess of the bedroom the night he offered to become her business partner. "You're everything I always thought a decent man should be. And for that I love you. As for what's between us… I'm afraid I'm just too old for you, Braeda."

He stood up and walked to her, and wrapped his arms around her. He held her tight and whispered in her hair, "Thank you for your honesty. And I respectfully disagree."

Though her heart was breaking, she whispered back, "If I could only turn back time, honey…"

"Just so you know, I would rather have ten years with you than forty with someone else." He squeezed her once more and then tried to let her go, but she was clinging to him like a postage stamp. "Chris?"

She pulled back and wiped at her eyes. "Sorry. That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me."

_Romantic…_ He blinked. "Hey, you know something? We've never been out on a date. How could you agree to be my girlfriend if I've never even taken you out?"

She laughed loudly at that. "Yeah, and what will everyone say when they seethis worn out whore on your arm!"

"They'll say look at that lovely woman and that handsome man," he murmured. "Look how happy they are together." He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, feeling her false lashes brush against his cheek when she closed her eyes.

Surprisingly, she tasted like dark red wine; a blend of the smoke and scotch she favored. Braeda felt her hand gently fist in his shirt and he smiled under her lips. Suddenly, she pulled back and said, "I'm old enough to be your mother."

"And I'm old enough to be your son, so what?"

"It really doesn't bother you, does it?"

He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Duh. If it did, would I even bother?"

Sighing, she said, "No, I guess not."

"Wednesday at six. We'll go to The Cretan Vineyard for dinner, then we'll go dancing at the Crystal Hall, then we'll come back here and break a bed, how's that sound?"

Chris chuckled as she nodded. "Hey… That was our first real kiss, wasn't it?" she asked as he finally went back to the desk to finish the night's numbers.

Smirking at the page, he said, "Don't worry, it won't be our last."

Vanessa smiled at how the Madame paced nervously. Typical first date jitters. She wore her hair spun up the back of her head, adorned with a sparkly comb, and a tailor-made shantung dress and jacket in a brilliant magenta color. When Braeda came in wearing a suit and tie, she nearly swooned. He pinned a cream colored corsage to her shoulder, kissed her briefly on the lips, and then offered her his arm. "You look lovely," he whispered as they walked past Vanessa.

The weight of her head against his shoulder and the feel of her cheek as she smiled were all the thanks he needed. "You look so handsome."

"Aww, y'all look so good together," Vanessa drawled from behind the bar. As they exited the mirrored entryway into the night, they couldn't agree with her more.


	6. Nip it in the Bud

**Title** : Nip It in the Bud  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 993  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Christmas, Roy, Vanessa, OCs (Royai implied)  
 **Summary** : Braeda shows that he can do more than balance the books.  
 **Warnings** : Talk of whores and prostitutes  
 **Author's Notes** : Big thanks to missyquill for beta work that this desperately needed. It's so nice to post polished work

**Prompt:** #121: Fracas

* * *

Roy sat in his usual seat, drinking and watching the pretty girls, talking to his aunt who sort of lounged behind the bar, also watching the pretty girls, but for a different reason entirely. It was her job to make sure none of them got with a guy they didn't want to be with, and she knew how to read her girls' nonverbals as clearly as if they'd shouted them. Braeda was filling drink orders while Jerrica waited the tables.

"Place is hopping tonight, Madame," Roy grinned. "The changes you've been working on must really be paying off."

"You shoulda been here Saturday night," she grinned. "Braeda-boy's cousin was here, he plays the banjo and his wife sings. They were really good, and we damn near ran out of draught. Busiest we've been in a long while." She flashed her lover a flirty smirk. "Should make up for what we spent to replace the bed…"

Roy shuddered. "I don't even wanna know." He took another swallow of his whiskey as Braeda and Chris chuckled. A moment later the silliness disappeared when they all looked up at the sound of a man's raised voice.

"I told you mister, Vanessa is mine!" This from a young man with cropped dark hair; he couldn't be much older than Ed Elric.

"Kid, you wouldn't know what to do with her once you got upstairs," the older man retorted. His hand clamped down on Vanessa's wrist and the older man jerked her toward him. Vanessa's big blue eyes were darting between the two of them… And then the younger man balled up his fist…

Roy and Braeda were in motion. Despite his size, Braeda could put down some distance fast when he wanted to. He reached out for Vanessa with his left hand, jerking her hard enough to free her from the older man's grip. He flung her into Roy, who spun around and sat her in a chair before turning back and grabbing the kid's arm to keep him from punching the other guy. Braeda had tackled the other man at the knees, and before a fracas could even begin, it was over.

"Hey, what gives, bartender!" the man shouted, clearly incensed over being tackled for no apparent reason.

"You were about to be decked, mister. Just keeping you from getting a black eye's all." Braeda stood up and offered him a hand. "You alright?"

The man got up on his own, scowling at Braeda. "This kid isn't even a pimple on my ass, he couldn't hurt me." He straightened his shirt and jacket. "I think I'll be going anyway, I've seen prettier girls walking the streets on the north side of town."

"Well! You go and catch crotch crickets from one of those nasty whores!" Vanessa spat as he walked past. "At least I can sleep at night knowing I'm not a painted, dirty pig in cheap nylons and glass diamonds!" He waved at her over his shoulder, and she flipped him the finger, crossing her arms and grumbling as the Madame sauntered up beside her.

"Umm, can you let me go now?" the kid squeaked. "I won't hurt anyone, I swear!" Roy realized he still had him in an arm bar and released him. He rubbed at his wrist a moment, shook out his elbow, and then grabbed his coat. "I'm sorry. I've been saving up for months for this, and I didn't want him to have you. I'll go."

Vanessa's hand gently touched his forearm. "You'll go alright. You'll go upstairs with me and we'll do whatever ya want," she purred. Chris nodded, handed her a key out of her pocket.

"Give it to him for half. He's got heart, and that still counts for something. But only this one time, son. Next time it's full price." He thanked her and she, Braeda and Roy watched them disappear through the red velvet drapes to the staircase beyond. "Braeda-boy, did you use to do this in a past life? I never saw anyone move so fast to protect one of my girls."

He gave her a grin. "I just wanted to show you I can do more than balance the books."

Chris returned his smile, kissing him on the cheek, to which Roy nearly gagged. "Honey, if that's the only thing you could do, we wouldn't still be sleeping together."

"Goddammit!" Roy huffed, stomping off in the direction of his whiskey. "You two are making me sick!"

"Then why don't you go to Riza's and try making _her_ sick… y'know, _morning sick_? Give me some damn grandchildren before I get too old to enjoy them?" She laughed when his face reddened. "C'mon, go call her and see if she'll let your sorry ass spend the night!"

"Madame, please," he mumbled.

"Has he ever said anything to her?" Braeda asked Chris, as if Roy wasn't sitting right there to hear him.

"Well, he tried once. But he was so drunk it came out all garbled." She reached under the bar and sat the phone on the bartop. "Call her before you get too drunk again."

Braeda gently pushed Chris aside and leaned down close to Roy's ear. "Havoc said she talks about you all the time when they're out on the gun range. I think she might like you back, sir." He watched as his commander's face brightened, and when he reached for the phone, he seemed confident, and certainly not nervous.

A quick conversation later, and Roy was all smiles as he hung up the phone, dug out some cash, and grabbed his coat. "Thanks, Braeda." He was on his way out the door when he stopped and turned. "Hey… you're doing a good job here, and you're fitting in really well. Might not be so bad, you and the Madame."

Braeda felt Chris' hand slip into his as they watched Roy leave with a smirk. She gave him a squeeze; they had his approval.


	7. Fuck the Numbers

TITLE: Fuck the Numbers  
AUTHOR: Sonja Jade  
WORD COUNT: 576  
CHARACTERS: Roy, Braeda/Chris  
RATING: M  
WARNINGS: language, sex (nothing really that graphic), off key singing XD  
SUMMARY: Just what it says: Chris and Braeda fuck the numbers…  
A/N: For my friends who don't adore Dean Martin, you should at least hear the song "That's Amoré" because that's the tune that is sung at the end.

* * *

"Fuck the numbers," he said, standing up and grabbing her hand.

"What?" Chris was being dragged behind her desk, and Braeda's other hand was clearing a spot…

"I said fuck the numbers." He turned her around so she was facing him, then planted her wide ass on top of the ledger from hell. There was crash as he shoved a few picture frames and an expensive pen set off into the floor, then he laid her back, her head dangling off the far side of the desk and her ponytail swinging.

She felt him pushing her dress up, ripping the sides in order to give him enough space, then her black satin panties were jerked to the side… There was the ripping sound of a rubber being opened, then suddenly she was filled, and two strong arms landed on either side of her. She could feel his heat inside and all around her, and she shivered in anticipation. "Fuck the numbers?" she giggled, trying to make light of what he'd said.

Braeda didn't say anything, only nibbled at her neck as he began to thrust within her. He went hard and fast, and Chris was lost to one orgasm after another. Not even five minutes in and she'd already had two, and then he went harder and faster, seeking his own release. As a result, the desk began to scoot across the floor, a loud _RAKAKAK!_ with every thrust Braeda made. The vibration of it, the spontaneity of it, the delicious feel of the woman he loved clenching around him and crying his name as quietly as she could, all culminated in Braeda roaring when he finally came. In his ecstasy, he'd shoved the desk all the way to the doorframe with one last loud _RAAAAAAAAAKKK!_ , the Madame raising her head up quickly before it was smashed between the door and the desk.

As the two of them gasped for breath, the sound of feet running caught their attention. The door flung open, Chris's head flopped back over the edge of the desk and Roy stood with a most surprised, and then disgusted look on his face.

"Hey Roy-boy," Chris said, making no move to unwrap her legs from her lover's waist. "What're you doing here so late?"

"So you've decided not to break any more beds I see," he said as he glowered at Braeda, who was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

"I see you've decided to spend another night here drinking rather than tell Riza what's really on your mind," he retorted as he kissed the woman beneath him.

Roy sighed. "I just came down to make sure everything was alright. I think I'll go home now and vomit for a few hours."

"That nauseous feeling isn't disgust, Roy-boy! That's that 'love is in the air' feeling!" his aunt cried as Braeda nibbled at her neck. "You know, _amoré_ and all that jazz!"

"When the moon hits your eye like a big burly guy, that's _amoré_!" Braeda sang, chuckling. Then he and the Madame sang off key together, "When you smoke too much grass and you fall on your ass, that's _amoré_!"

"Oh great, they sing too," Roy said to himself. "I definitely need to find a new place to hang out." Roy grumbled, leaving them to sing their bawdy little tune in peace. And though he'd never admit it to either of them, all the way home he hummed the melody.


	8. In the Purple Haze of Dawn

 

Manipulation I did for this piece

TITLE: In the Purple Haze of Dawn  
AUTHOR: Sonja Jade  
WORD COUNT: 2,793  
CHARACTER(S): Braeda/Christmas  
SUMMARY: He'd never asked her for any details regarding her 'professional' life, now he'd wondering why she's asking questions about his history.  
RATING/WARNINGS: NC17, total smutfest middle-end. Sorta waffy smut though.

*** I don't own the series Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within***

* * *

"Honey," Christmas said to Braeda. "It's been a really long night. I think it's time you went home."

He looked up from the ledger- a new one that he set up to his standards (and eyesight). The clock on the wall read 3:47 am and he shook his head, grinning. "It's been a very _profitable_ night. I assume the girls are finished and gone?" It was the first time in months that Christmas had sold a room, and to her good fortune, she'd sold two.

"Yep, showered, beds stripped and remade… They left about twenty minutes ago." She lit a cigarette and sagged against the doorway. "I'm too old to be staying up so late."

Braeda chuckled, closing the books. He capped and put his pen in the drawer, then stowed the locking register in the wall safe. He gathered his keys and his coat and met his lady in the doorway. She'd taken her spiky shoes off and stood a whole head shorter than him now. "Why don't you come home with me. I'll fix you breakfast in the morning and we can go to sleep to the sound of the aquarium bubbling."

Chris smiled at him. "That sounds wonderful. I think those bubbles are just what I need after today." She accepted his kiss, then turned out the light, grabbing her purse on the way out the door. Braeda started the engine on the used towncar he'd bought, and away down the dead streets they went. They hit all the green lights on the way there and made it in less than ten minutes.

Braeda's apartment was on the ground floor with a nice private patio, a canvas awning and lots of potted greenery. The place was small, certainly a bachelor's pad, but it was homey in the little touches that Chris had convinced him to add. There were some framed pictures on the walls, a small shelf with some of his military medals and honors displayed. But the thing that they both loved the most was the 300 gallon aquarium.

It was in the bedroom and took up one whole side of the room. Thankfully, it was in the largest room of the house and wasn't cumbersome. Braeda had won it in a poker game, and he'd filled it with all kinds of fish, some he caught when fishing with Havoc, some were bought at the pet store. There was a big snail and a couple of crawdads and a little crab… It was his own little microcosm to nurture and observe, and it was incredibly peaceful and relaxing.

Chris had her own drawer in his dresser, and small part of the closet was also hers. She pulled out a plain cotton nightgown and stripped down under the ultraviolet purple-tinted light of the monstrosity. Braeda came in just as she was pulling the shirt on over her head. "It's nights like this that I'm glad I had my makeup tattooed on," she sighed, crawling into his bed (a much sturdier and larger thing than the beds at the bar).

Braeda stood in the doorway eating a sandwich, not willing to get yelled at for eating in the bed again. "Hey, how come you never take your hair down?" he asked.

She opened her tired eyes. "It's always in the way when it's down. Sometimes I wish I could just cut it all off like yours." She sat up. "You wanna see it down?"

"Yes, I do," he answered, watching as she unwound an elastic from the back of her head. When it was all out, she ran her fingers through it, helping it to fall out of its perpetual tail state, and Braeda marveled at how much different she looked with it down. He stepped toward her, running his fingers through the lengths of it. "It's very pretty." He tucked it behind her ears. " _You're_ very pretty." He loved to make her blush like a schoolgirl. It made her seem young and innocent, maybe because when it came to _love_ , she was.

He finished the last of his midnight snack and brushed the crumbs off his 'wife beater' style shirt. He flipped the lights down to low on the aquarium and got in on the other side of the bed. He snuggled up to Christmas' back and rested his arm in the dip of her waist. Just as he thought he was about to nod off, she asked him quietly, "Braeda? How many women have you been with?"

"That's a weird question at four in the morning."

"I'm sorry. Goodnight, honey."

He squeezed her to him, wanting to reassure her, whatever her worries were. "Four, including you."

"Oh."

"Why?" He felt her shake her head.

"No reason." It was quiet a few moments, and then the other shoe dropped. "I've been with 326 men in my entire lifetime, including you."

"It's a wonder you're not stretched out."

Anyone else would've been insulted, but not Christmas. "I had a surgery once, a long time ago when Roy first went to his alchemy master. I had it tightened up. I've been real careful since then, because the first few times afterward hurt like hell and I didn't want to have it done again."

Braeda breathed the smell of her unbound hair in. "It doesn't matter to me." He began trailing his fingers up and down her arm, the skin not so tight anymore, but still soft. "You could have been with the whole Amestrian army and I wouldn't care. I love you."

"Did you ever come inside any of them?" she murmured.

"No," came his immediate answer.

"Well, you can imagine how short my career would have been if I'd let anyone come inside me," she laughed.

"Chris," said Braeda, "are you telling me you want me to come inside you?" He leaned up on his elbow to see her face.

The Madame turned to look at him. "Well… If you ever want to, I can't have babies and I'm clean, never had any STDs. I trust you if you ever decide you want to."

He sighed. "My mother, God rest her soul, made me promise when I left home to join the military that I would never do that unless I was married." He felt her draw in a breath to protest, "Now hang on a second. I promised her that because my father didn't. He made me and then left, and I promised her I wouldn't do that to anyone." The hand that had been sort of tickling the length of her arm shifted and passed over the loose flesh of her breast and felt around for her nipple. When he found it, he teased it to stand and then pinched and pulled at it, watching Chris enjoy his touch.

"But, I think that since you can't have kids, my mother wouldn't mind at all. I'd still be keeping my promise not to sire any children." He leaned down and kissed her, felt as she rolled to her back and tugged him on top of her. He chuckled as he broke free from her lips and worked his boxers off. "It like we're losing our virginity again," he grinned.

She blinked. That's right… Of all the things she ever done with men, this was one of a handful of things she hadn't done. She had saved something of her sexuality for someone special, and she teared up in the dark. "Yeah, it is kinda like that."

"Uh… I usually come a lot with you… I wonder if you can hold it all." Out of habit he reached for the drawer on the nightstand, then shook his head at himself. "Should I get a towel and stick under you?"

For once, she didn't know the answer to some kind of bedroom question. "I dunno, maybe you should just to be safe."

He kissed her deeply, grinding against her trimmed mound and groaning. "Don't move, I'll be right back!" He scrambled off of her and jogged to the bathroom, clad only in the shirt he had on when he laid down to sleep. Seconds later and he was back with a fluffy towel, unfurling it and sliding it under the Madame's butt. He pulled his shirt off, waited as she shed her nightgown, then all but ripped the covers off the bed and…

Began rubbing her feet. He kissed her toes, licked between them, then kissed her legs all the way up to the place where they joined. His fat thumbs pulled her apart and he tasted the worn petals of her woman's place, licking her and suckling at her nubbin over and over until she climaxed, screaming to God as Braeda shoved her into delirium.

When she came back down, she panted, "Please… Fill me up… I want every drop…"

"Of course, my lady," he said, gripping his bare cock and giving a few readying strokes. He brought his head down to her netherlips, gathered the musk she'd sent rolling down only moments ago, and was in awe at how different it already felt. "Unng, it's so warm…" he grunted. Slowly, he slid inside of her, feeling everything in a whole new way… How well he already knew the bumpy landscape of her interior, but going in raw gave it a definition he'd never known could exist. She molded to him perfectly, her temperature was hot and she was so silky inside. This time when he hit the mouth of her womb, he could tell it was a different texture, and therefore a different organ altogether. He wanted to memorize every detail about her internal fist, and so for a few strokes he went slowly.

Christmas felt the heat difference right away, the rubber that had always separated them before must have acted as some kind of a heat shield. His tip was the warmest part, and she moaned his name as he stroked her gently inside with it. She could feel clearly the thick vein running underneath, a vein she had seen and tasted at other times when they'd been together. She felt him trembling and her hands came to his face. "Honey, you feel amazing!" she breathed.

"Oh God, Chris… I never knew it was supposed to be like this!" He began to speed up. The Madame let her legs fall open and she drew her knees up as far ash she could, letting him go as deep as possible. Braeda pulled one of her tits to his mouth and then pistoned as hard and fast as he could. He let her nipple go, gasping and moaning, making more noise than she'd ever heard him make before.

"Come, Braeda-boy!" she encouraged, her voice dark and wanton. "Let it go! Pump my pussy full of your sticky cum! Ahhhh yessss, feels so good… Come inside me, claim this body as yours and no one else's! Huuuuhhhhh, honey if you don't come, I'm gonna! Oh God, yes! Right there! Come, honey, come inside me!"

Deep inside her, a chain reaction began. Her walls shuddered, clamping down on her lover, which in turn triggered his balls to begin that final release… His cock swelled as she clenched him tighter within her, her own orgasm hot and wet and _tight._ He could feel it moving up and through his length, stopping at the last second because his lady had clamped down on him so tightly… and when she released him, he gave a final shove and hot jets of cum sprayed her insides until he was completely spent. He shuddered, feeling a little more trickle out as his size began to shrink… He'd given her every last drop, every last bit of his seed. Braeda slipped free from her, hissing unexpectedly, then laughing.

"What's funny?" she gasped.

"So sensitive… Never felt that before." He flopped to his back, chest heaving and wearing a grin so wide he felt his face would break. "Chris… That was amazing. Fucking amazing…" He looked over at her, dark brown waves pooling around her head on the pillow. He'd never thought she was more beautiful than he did right then…

"It feels so warm," she said, touching her abdomen where his essence had pooled inside her. "Kinda like taking a bath inside out…"

"Marry me, Chris."

Shocked eyes snapped toward Braeda, who was very nearly crying. She didn't say anything for a minute, thinking very carefully about what he'd just said. Finally, she said, "Honey, you don't wanna marry a whore like me. I still run a bar slash whorehouse, and as the Madame… I would have to go if they had money to give."

"Make Vanessa the Madame. You can worry about the bar and she can worry about the girls." He took her hand and kissed it, marveling at how her huge rings glinted in the low light of the aquarium. "Let me make an honest woman out of you. Be my partner in everything, be my very best friend, be my wife."

Chris was flabbergasted. If there was anyone she wanted to marry it was him, but that age gap bothered her so badly. Of course when it was just the two of them alone it was no big deal. They were just two _people_ in love. Not an old woman and a young man. Just two people. Part of her was so giddy, part of her felt so guilty… And an even bigger part was going to kick her own ass if she walked away from someone who truly loved her and cherished her, despite her past, despite her profession.

"You don't have to take my name if you don't want to," he offered. "It would be kinda weird anyway since everyone calls me by my last name anyway."

She laughed and said, "Take my last name. You can be Braeda Mustang." Chris's hand reached out and held his cheek. "We can worry about that later. The hardest part is going to be telling Grumman and Roy."

"Why?" Then a second later, "Wait, you will?"

"Yes, honey. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be with. But if you take out a life insurance policy on me as soon as we walk away from the altar, it's over!" He tackled her in the bed and twisted his tongue around hers, then thanked her in hushed tones as he nibbled her neck. She hugged him as tight as she could, feeling grateful tears stream from permanently painted eyes. There was no shame in this. This was right and good. He'd said he'd take ten years if that's all he could have, and she had no doubt that if she gave him ten years they would be the happiest years of her life.

"Alright, Braeda-boy, I'm not going anywhere, you can let me up!" she laughed from underneath him. He got out of bed and paced, actually taking one of her cigarettes and smoking as he thought out loud.

"I wanna get you a nice ring. And we'll have a great big reception. A nice big cake, lots of dancing-"

"And I'm going to go to the bathroom and then get some sleep!" She stood up, holding the towel that had been under her at her crotch and then chuckling to herself. "You can feel it rolling down!"

He nodded, puffing smoke at the ceiling and grinning. "I gave you all of it, everything I had, just like you wanted."

He finished his smoke while she cleaned up, and when she came back her hair was pulled back once again, nightshirt back on, and she yawned wide. He opened the window and flipped the smoldering butt out into the dewy grass, spotting the first hints of sunrise in the early morning sky. He pulled on his boxers and climbed back into bed with her, snuggling up to her back, the way they had always slept together since the beginning. Braeda kissed her neck and then chuckled. "Please let me be the one to tell Grumman." He had no idea what the two of them engaged in (Christmas held sort of a doctor/patient confidentiality with her clients), but he was sure it would burn his old ass to know he'd taken her out from under him, literally.

"Only if you're also the one to tell Roy."

He thought about that for a moment. He was sure Roy wouldn't be happy, and he really didn't want his ass to get burned over it. "Only if you make him leave his gloves with Riza."

"You got it, honey."

Finally, just before sunrise, the two of them found sleep in each other's arms. The aquarium bubbled peacefully away as dawn ushered in a new era for both of them.


	9. Magpies and Rooks

"What's that?" she asked him as he walked in carrying a brown paper bag in addition to the Xingese takeout she'd requested for dinner.

"A book."

"A book?"

Braeda sat everything down on the kitchen table as Christmas poured them some freshly brewed green tea. "Yeah, the pot stickers took a little longer than usual to make, so I wandered around the bookstore next door and found something I thought you might like." He started pulling out little white paper boxes and opening them. "It's about animal familiars."

Chris laughed at that, grabbing some forks from the drawer. "Honey I don't read. Nothing's as exciting as real life, let me tell you."

"Oh trust me, I think you'll find this quite interesting."

They ate their meal, and then afterward Braeda insisted she sit next to him on the couch and look at his new book together. "I promise you will like this. There's something in particular I want to show you."

Sighing obnoxiously, she agreed and snuggled into his shoulder. He flipped the pages until he got to a specific creature: a rook. "Black birds, ravens, crows and rooks," he read, "are among natures most mysterious birds, often associated with both good and bad omens and are generally avoided because no one is sure which way to take their symbolism. People who claim a black bird as a familiar are often assigned these traits: higher intelligence, thought and ideals than the average person, and they tend to be shrouded in mystery and seem to have non-obvious perception. They often are connected to spiritual energies that can uncover secrets, reveal the unknown, and are capable of helping others realize their full potential." He looked over at her, "Does that remind you of someone?"

She nodded. "I know a certain Rook that this would fit perfect for."

"That's what I thought. Now listen to this one," he said as he flipped through more pages. "Ah here we go. The magpie is a bird of queens, perhaps because of the traits associated between the animal and the people who are like it. Magpie tendencies include: opportunistic, intelligent, perceptiveness, flashy at times yet refined at others, communicative, social, deceptive and illusionary, expressive and particularly willful. The Xingese recognize the magpie's power and the characters for 'luck' and 'magpie' are very similar. Those who identify with the magpie are matched well to other birds of intellect, chiefly black birds and the noble falcon." He pointed to the picture of the bird and chuckled, "You're more beautiful than this, but you're definitely a magpie."

"I'm certainly _not_ a magpie," she laughed as she rolled her eyes.

"Are too! You're just like a magpie! They love being natures little spies and thieves, just like you and that gaggle of magpies at the brothel." He watched as she labored to her feet and left the room. "Where are you going?"

"You want a bird? I'll give you a bird!" she called from the bedroom.

While Braeda sincerely was expecting her to simply give him the finger from around the corner, he heard thumping and bumping from the closet, and then it was quiet for about fifteen minutes. And then his jaw dropped when Chris came back. "What the hell?"

She was wearing a very outrageous dress, covered in exotic peacock feathers and purple and teal sequins. She carried a feather fan in her hand, and on top of her head was a matching feathered hat type thing, though it only covered a small portion of her head and was mostly for decoration. "Now I'm a fuckin' bird!" she smirked.

Braeda stood up and came to her, looking her over from all sides, gently touching the dress as if it would fall apart at his touch. Then he took her hand, flipped the radio on and began dancing with her right there in the living room. "Flashy, yet refined; expressive… and all because you're 'particularly willful'. You're just proving my point even more," he smiled.

"And why do you think rooks are drawn to magpies if we're so different," she huffed.

"Because I take life too seriously and you put the fun back into it." He kissed her and then said, "I wouldn't ever wear anything like this, but it looks beautiful on you. Though, I have to ask… where were you planning on wearing this?"

"I never had a dress made of feathers before, I thought it was neat looking."

Braeda nipped at her ear, "Did it come with matching underwear?"

"Oh please," she laughed. "Even if it did, you'd have it off me in a matter of minutes!"

"Damn right," he said he began dancing her toward the bedroom.


	10. Deadbeat

TITLE: Deadbeat  
AUTHOR: Sonja Jade  
CHARACTERS: Braeda/Madame Christmas  
WORD COUNT: 462  
RATING: PG  
WARNINGS: Chris' mouth, general name calling  
SUMMARY: When a young lady runs up a tab that she can't pay, Braeda puts her to work, much to the Madame's disappointment…  
A/N: Goes with my 'So Crystalline' universe but can stand on its own.

* * *

 

"I don't like her," she grunted.

"It's just for a few days, Chris," Braeda replied, reading glasses on the end of his nose as he fought to read his wife's angry handwriting. "Is this a four or a nine?"

She leaned over. "A four."

He sighed. "I wish you'd tell me what's got you so pissed off about her."

"She's a cunt."

"That's not a reason." He listened as she sparked up another cigarette. "And that's the third smoke you've had in like five minutes, would ya chill out?"

She huffed and flopped down in the chair in the corner of her office (though as much time as Braeda spent behind the desk it might as well be _his_ office now. "She's uppity when she talks to customers, she bitches about the cooks in the back, and if that wasn't bad enough you can smell her from miles away. The woman probably hasn't bathed in a month!"

Braeda shook his head as he entered another figure in. "Sweetheart, she's working off the bill she ran up. When that's paid off, we'll cut her loose, no sweat."

"Shit, at this point I'd rather eat the loss."

He looked up at her. "Really? And if we did that for every drunk who came in here with no money we'd be up a shit creek all over again." Braeda went back to the ledger. "She stays until the debt is worked off. If you can't stand her… Then go home and read a book or something."

"Hey now!" she squawked defensively. "This is _my_ restaurant-"

" _Our_ restaurant dear," he said as he held up his left hand and flashed the silver band at her.

Growling to herself, she stood up and began pacing. "I don't understand how you can put up with her."

"It's only a few days!"

"I've never even taken a sick day, not once! Even when I was in Dagran I still was working!"

"I have no doubt. Now go home and take a nap or go pester Riza or something. I'm giving you the next four days off." He looked up smirking. "You don't want to get fired, do you?"

"I'll fire you, Braeda-boy! Right off the fucking roof!" She grabbed her purse and slammed the door behind her.

"Hey! Come back!" Braeda yelled. To his surprise, the door opened and a very angry Chris Mustang glared back at him. He smiled at her. "I love you."

Her body seemed to slump a little, then she grumbled back, "I love you, too. Bring some dinner back with you."

"Yes, dear." She closed the door a little softer the second time, but she didn't leave without making sure she yelled at the 'cunt' in question. He snickered to himself. "That's my girl."


	11. Hard Learned Lessons

**Title** : Hard Learned Lessons  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 246  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Cha** **racter(s)** : Braeda/Chris, Roy, his sisters  
 **Summary** : Braeda is a very smart man, but even he doesn't know everything.  
 **Warnings** : lol, a man being tortured for the sake of a few laughs from his adoring wife. Thank you missyquill for the quick beta!  
 **Author's Notes** : Was inspired to write this based on an episode of a show called Mrs. Brown's Boys. **  
Prompt:** Humor

* * *

"Hey," Braeda said as he watched his wife in the tub shaving her legs. "You ever shaved it bare?"

"A couple of times. Why?" asked Madame Christmas.

"Would you do it for me?"

"Only if you do it, too."

Braeda shook his head. "Oh no, I'm not gonna cut my nuts off!"

"We'll wax it; it'll go faster and you won't cut yourself." She smiled wickedly at him. "I'll do it myself just to be sure. You in?"

He smirked. "Hell yeah!"

* * *

Roy was sitting at the bar when all of a sudden the peaceful evening was disturbed by a loud, masculine yowl of pain. The girls all burst out laughing at the same time and he looked at Jerrica, wanting to know but not wanting to know at the same time.

"I know they're not into S&M, so what's going on up there?"

"You might call it a little of 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours'," Jerrica said laughing.

Vanessa hooted and said, "Or you might call it a little of 'I'll shave mine if you let me _wax_ yours'!"

Roy actually chuckled and let a grin form on his lips before taking a sip of his drink. "I propose a toast!" The girls found glasses and poured wine as they laughed at Braeda's misery. Finally, everyone's glass was raised. "To Braeda's balls, and to hard learned lessons."

They all drank to that as Braeda cried out again. "You poor bastard," Roy laughed.


	12. Burps Better than Beer

**Title** : Burps Better Than Beer  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 957  
 **Rating** : G  
 **Cha** **racter(s)** : Braeda/Chris, Roy/Riza, OC  
 **Summary** : The other Mustang family has a special guest that they aren't 100% sure how to handle.  
 **Warnings** : none  
 **Author's Notes** : Follows my 'Whatever it Takes' universe.

* * *

"And if she gets hungry, just give her six ounces of the formula," Riza said as Roy began ushering his wife out the door. "The directions to make it are on the can."

"We'll be fine, go out and have a great time!" the Madame said as she cradled Lily to her shoulder. "I'll call if I have any questions!" Braeda managed to get the two of them out the door and nodded to the Führer's security squad that everything was alright inside the little apartment before closing the door.

"I would have thought that after two and a half solid months of not sleeping through the night and being stuck in the house that she'd be ready for some time away from the baby," Braeda said as he made some faces at the little one drooling all over his wife's shoulder, his granddaughter by marriage.

"It's a good thing I never had any of my own," Chris said as she dug around in the baby's bag for a rattle. "Who knows when I ever would have left the house? Just look at how beautiful she is, Braeda! How could anyone leave a little angel like this, even if it was to go out and have grown up fun?"

The little girl with the dark hair and chocolate eyes grinned toothlessly up at her and gave a little coo that set her grandmother all aflutter. Chris danced through the apartment with her, the radio playing jazzy little tunes that kept the little girl in good spirits for a while. When Lily began to fuss a little, Mamaw (a smooth blend of 'Madame' and 'Grandma') promptly flew into the kitchen to prepare a bottle for her. As soon as the nipple touched Lily's lips, the infant quieted and ate as though she were ravenous. Chris watched with a soft smile on her lined face, taking in every single second she could of even this most mundane of activities. When Lily was finished, Madame gently put her over her shoulder and patted her softly to encourage her to burp, but she never did, and after a few minutes, Lily began to really cry.

As the wailing got louder and more insistent, Christmas grew more and more anxious, and the baby felt it. The cycle of crying and panic had begun, and before even five minutes had passed, Chris looked ready to cry herself out of frustration and simply not knowing what to do.

Braeda told her to calm down. "Honey, you have to settle down. You're not doing either of you any favors by being so upset." Lily was crying real tears at this point, and Chris was becoming frantic in her efforts to settle the baby. "Here, give her to me while you go call Riza."

Madame got up and shuffled her granddaughter gently to her husband, and then raced to the phone to dial the number of the reception hall that the Führer and his wife had gone to for the evening. While she was waiting to be patched through to the private balcony, she watched Braeda with Lily.

"Alright Lily-Bean, let's see what's going on here." He peeked into the leg of her diaper and found nothing, looked into her mouth to check for white spots on her gum line indicating teething, then he started patting her back a little harder than what Chris had, at first causing his wife to shout at him thinking he was punishing her for crying so loudly. He danced and swayed with her, shushing and all but beating on her back, then he sang along with the music and dipped her as if she were a full size dance partner. When he stood them back up, a loud belch rang out of her tiny mouth and her cries instantly ceased.

" _Madame? Is everything okay with Lily?"_ Riza asked in a panicked voice.

Chris could only look on in disbelief for a moment, and then she smiled and replied, "I just wanted to let you know that everything's fine and that she's doing great. You guys have a good time and try to really enjoy yourself, alright?"

Riza gave a sigh of relief _. "Of course. Thank you for updating me."_

After she'd hung up the phone, she joined Braeda on the couch. He had the little girl on his shoulder and she was beginning to doze off, her little thumb worming its way into her mouth as she sighed against her Papaw. "That was amazing," she whispered.

"Well, I thought about what I would do if I had a burp caught in my chest, and I thought I might pound myself like a gorilla until it came out. And since a burp is just an air bubble, I thought dipping her like that would make it move a little so she could get it out. Looks like it worked."

"When I watched Jean and Sciezka's baby, she was old enough to burp herself. This was my first time trying to burp a little baby." She laid her head on Braeda's other shoulder and just watched the baby sleep. After a long time, she said, "I don't think I would have been a good mother. I'm glad I didn't have any of my own, but this is nice every once in a while."

"I don't know what to think," Braeda responded. "I like the feel of her on my chest though. Little bundle of sweet warmth, making little baby sounds in my ear… I think you would have been fine once you got the hang of it all." He squeezed her hand. "We could have made pretty babies, too."

"Thank goodness we can't," the Madame chuckled. Braeda grinned and nodded in agreement.


	13. Doctor's Orders

**Title** : Doctor's Orders  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 250  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Cha** **racter(s)** : Braeda/Chris, Dr. Knox, mentions of Ling  
 **Summary** : After getting into a bar fight, Madame takes her husband to get checked out.  
 **Warnings** : unbeta'd  
 **Prompt:** Fracture

* * *

Dr. Knox looked at Chris Mustang. "It's just a few fractured ribs, nothing that _resting_ in bed won't fix." He scribbled out a prescription for pain killers and handed it to her, and she promptly stuck it into the bodice of her dress. "I mean it, Madame. Leave him alone for a few days so he can heal. I heard about that broken bed," he scowled.

"I got it, Knox!" she grumped at him. Looking at her husband who was holding his side and grimacing, she said, "I told you to let me handle that guy."

"Yeah right, he woulda hurt you worse than this. Besides, you couldn't have broken his nose," he grinned as bruises began to bloom on his face.

"Just be thankful I couldn't get a clear shot, otherwise instead of sittin' here you'd be bailin' me outta jail," Chris winked as she patted her bosom where her loaded .22 pistol rested.

Braeda rolled his eyes. "Let's go home," he said as he grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. "Maybe now'd be a good time to figure out that tantric sex the Emperor told you about."

Knox only gaped at them as they walked past, discussing sexual theory like he wasn't even in the room. He saw Madame lace her fingers in Braeda's and he shook his head. They were just that much in love. "If it hurts, stop!" he called after them. Braeda waved in acknowledgement and Knox sighed. "There go two idiots…"


	14. Peppy the Pernicious Pup

**Title** : Peppy the Pernicious Pup  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 493  
 **Rating** : PG-13  
 **Cha** **racter(s)** : Braeda/Chris, Vanessa, Peppy :)  
 **Summary** : Braeda _really_ hates dogs…  
 **Warnings** : Language, otherwise pretty tame  
 **Author's Notes** : Poor Braeda, I've been picking on him lately. Madame says that's okay, she always makes it up to him LOL **  
Prompt:** Pets

* * *

"Get that goddamn dog outta here!" he bellowed.

"Oh, Mr. Madame!" Vanessa chided gently as she picked the tiny dog up from the floor. "He only weighs three pounds, surely you're not afraid of such a small little thing as Peppy!"

Braeda glared at the ball of meticulously groomed white fluff. "The little ones are worse than the big ones! They're like fuckin' rabid squirrels! Now get it out of here!"

"Knock it off, I'm on the phone!" Chris boomed from her office. Braeda and Vanessa looked toward her office, then back at each other.

"Get that mutt outta here," the burly red head hissed through gritted teeth.

"Jump off a cliff," Vanessa cooed at him as she snuggled the dog to her chin.

"I swear I'll make pot stickers out of him!" Braeda threatened.

Vanessa roared with laughter, then she sauntered upstairs to her 'office', sassing as she went, "Like you could quit pissing your pants long enough to actually grab him, Mr. Madame!"

He listened as she talked more nonsense to the feral beast, and then heard as she opened then closed her door. Braeda sighed in relief. At least the little mongrel was confined a decent distance away from him. He went back to wiping the water spots off the glasses and slipping them under the bar to get ready for the evening's business, all while grumbling that the place was supposed to be a cat house, not a dog house.

After a little while, Braeda lost himself in the tune spilling from the jukebox and began to hum along with them. He was on his last flat of tumblers when he heard Vanessa telling the dog to 'sit and stay!'… and then he heard he say it a little more insistently, and then he heard her yelling, "Damn it Peppy! Get back here!"

Before he even had time to react, he could hear the _clickity-clickity_ sound of canine feet racing down the worn wooden steps, and when the little flying ball of hair took a running jump right at him, he covered his body with his strong arms and _screamed_ like a woman in labor. This led to Chris Mustang dropping the phone onto her desk with a loud thud as she hurried on stiletto heels to find out what was wrong…

She reached down and plucked the dog from his lap (who was trying to cover him in affectionate kisses when she arrived) and tossed a bar towel there instead, to hide the fact he'd wet his pants.

"Get this goddamn dog outta here," she growled as she shoved the thing into Vanessa's arms. "And if you bring him back, I'll personally drop kick him into next week." Once master and hound were gone, she helped Braeda to his feet. "I think it's time to put up that 'No Animals Allowed' sign, whaddya think?" He nodded vigorously as they walked together to her office to find dry pants.


	15. Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart

**Title** : Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 2,495 **  
Rating** : T  
 **Cha** **racter(s)** : Braeda/Chris  
 **Summary** : How the Mustangs celebrated their wedding anniversary over the years.  
 **Warnings** : SAD :_(  
 **Author's Notes** : Alright Madame Muse, this is the only way this was going to happen…

* * *

Their first anniversary was celebrated with gifts of cotton. Christmas bought Braeda a cotton rope hammock with a stand so he could enjoy a nap on the patio when the weather was nice. Braeda bought his wife a comfortable dress with a matching purse, the same shade of green as her eyes. After a romantic dinner and some drinks and dancing, they came home and tried out the hammock… It held their weight, though just barely; they were swinging just inches away from the ground. After having to tumble out of it to get free from the thing, they laughed and decided to share a hot bath together, followed by attempting to break the bed they shared.

Their second anniversary was celebrated with paper. The Madame bought her husband a photo album and filled it with pictures they'd taken together with their friends and family. There were some of the girls, quite a few of Lily, as well as Roy and Riza, Jean and Sciezka and their kids, Jackie and Cort. But the very first picture was of them on their wedding day, a blown up and colorized version of the black and white photo the chaplain's secretary had taken of them at Camp Longbow in Youswell. Braeda had nearly been moved to tears, and he kissed his wife deeply in appreciation. And then he handed her an envelope with a green bow taped to it. Inside, Chris found two first class train tickets all the way to Xing on the first ride of the Cross Desert Railway. There was a letter from the Emperor, whom she'd met at Roy's wedding and conversed with for a while. It was an invitation to stay at the palace for two weeks to share Amestrian and Xingese 'mating practices'. She threw her arms around Braeda and asked when they were leaving.

Their third anniversary was celebrated with leather. Braeda got a leather journal that was beat up looking scotch stained. When Chris smiled and handed him the key, he unlocked it to find the pages filled with Chris' handwriting… entries all about him and how she felt about him in the days before they were officially dating each other. She rambled in the pages about how much she truly enjoyed his company, lots of regrets about how she wished she could have met him at a younger age, but always was written how much she cared about him. She told him it was his, but she would still add to it from time to time, so that when she passed on he would always know how much she loved him, even when she couldn't say so. This time, Braeda did cry. He pulled her into his arms and told her he would fight the Grim Reaper himself if it meant getting to keep her. Chris shushed him and said she wasn't going anywhere just yet, to just relax and give her his gift already. He made some kind of apology for the gift not being as sentimental as hers and she dismissed it with a wave of her hand. When she opened the box and found leather lingerie, she laughed and told him it was exactly what she wanted and immediately put it on for him. He would spend the rest of the night worshipping her body as though she were a goddess, because in his heart and mind, she was one and always would be.

Their fourth anniversary was celebrated with fruit and flowers. Braeda sprinkled their bed with flower petals and they took turns feeding each other fruits that had come from Xing as a gift from Emperor Ling, fruits said to be powerful aphrodisiacs. After a long and sticky night, they shared a bath, quickly stripped the bed, and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Their fifth was celebrated with a big party at their restaurant. Nearly everyone they knew came and feasted with them, drank with them, even danced with them. Their grandchildren were there, even the baby Riza had birthed only three months prior: Lucy. The Xingese Emperor couldn't make it due to Empress Lan Fan's troubled pregnancy, so he sent Al and Mei Elric and their children in his place. And since Al was there, Ed and Winry Elric and clan were there. There was music and laughter and love all around, and Mr. and Mrs. Madame were so happy, often spotted holding hands and sharing smooches. Braeda presented his gift first: an elaborate jewelry box from Drachma, complete with abalone inlay and cut glass and mirrors. It was tall and beautiful, and he opened the top drawer and pulled out a diamond ring, saying it was bad luck to give someone an empty jewelry box. Chris let him slip the ring on her finger and then hugged him tightly, then ducked into her office to retrieve her gift for him. Braeda pulled the cotton cloth from the object ("Gently!" Chris reminded him) and found a Xingese bonsai tree complete with a porcelain fisherman and a small pond in the pot. She handed him a tiny pair of pruners and smiled at his excitement. After the evening was through, Chris placed her new jewelry box next to her small vanity, and Braeda placed his new plant on the end table on the patio. They were both so worn out from the celebration that they decided to simply get some sleep.

On their sixth anniversary, Braeda was in jail. He was arrested for busting up a bar fight, which in itself wasn't so bad, but he hit someone in the face and put him in a coma. He was awaiting a trial when he was suddenly released. Evidently, Madame had Dr. Knox take a look at the victim, sign a sworn affidavit that the man in a coma had had an asthma attack during the fight and prolonged retention of carbon dioxide had caused him to slip into the coma. Braeda was released two days after the incident and all the charges were dropped. He and Chris went to the restaurant and ate like horses (she'd lost her appetite when he'd been carted away), and then had their small anniversary cake. It was sweet and sugary and a perfect way to end their three day nightmare.

Their seventh anniversary was spent in the newly revitalized city of Baschool. Chris had become fascinated with Drachman culture since diplomatic negotiations had opened the borders between the once feuding countries. Baschool was restructured to reflect that of a typical Drachman city and featured lots of traditional architecture, food and culture. Lily came with them, and on June 6th, the three of them dined on reindeer steak and lapsha soup. There was vatrushka for dessert, and when they returned to their hotel room, there were three wrapped packages for each of them: three woolen sweaters with matching patterns in different colors. Madame's was of course an emerald green, Braeda's was a navy blue, and Lily's was a vibrant purple. The Mustangs would later find out they were from Roy, Riza and Lucy.

On Chris and Braeda's eighth wedding anniversary, they bought a house. Everything was fresh and new, and the Madame promised she wouldn't stink up the place with her cigarettes… In fact, she threw them in the trash the day they moved in. They moved their 300 gallon aquarium into the living room for everyone to see, they had a real back yard for the kids to play in, two guest rooms so that Jean and Sciezka could bring the children and stay for a few days… It was everything they'd been talking about for years. They celebrated after they were settled in with crisp new linen sheets and new lacy lingerie for the Madame, and they broke in their new bed in by simply sleeping in it.

Their ninth anniversary, Chris wasn't feeling very well. She put up a good front for everyone else, but Braeda would catch her in the kitchen with her hand at her chest and wincing… Sometimes he'd catch her breathing deeply over and over, like she couldn't catch her breath, other times he could hear her murmuring to herself, "Just stop hurting, dammit. It's not my time yet…" He saw an ad in the paper for copper bracelets, how they made arthritis disappear and improved general health. After talking to a customer at their restaurant who wore them, he decided to buy Chris a set, one for each wrist. To his surprise, she did seem to start feeling better, but he kept an eye on her more closely than ever.

By their tenth anniversary, Roy's reign as Führer had come to an end, and the new democracy had pardoned both he and his wife for outstanding service to the country to attempt to rectify the horrors of the Ishvallan Extermination. In celebration, the entire Mustang family, as well as the Havoc family, took a train to Xing and spent an entire month with the royal family. Ling presented Braeda and Chris with traditional tin gifts: hammered tin Xingese pendants of the character for love. Over the weeks they spent with Ling, Braeda requested that the royal physicians take a look at Chris, who had begun to cough like she perpetually had a cold. Chris didn't want to go, but she finally relented. The ancient man who examined her said that even though she'd given up smoking, it had damaged her lungs and that was the reason for the cough. As for the chest pains, it was nature taking its course. She had lived a very decadent life without regard to the long term effects of such a lifestyle. He advised her to lose some weight; that the weight loss could ease the amount of energy it took for her heart to work. He advised her to only drink red wine, and to stay away from cigarettes and the business ledgers of the business, since that seemed to stress her out incredibly according to her husband. That night when they went to bed, she reminded him that he would be happy with ten years if that was all she could give him. Braeda wound his arms around her and held her until he fell asleep, though sleep didn't find Chris for quite a while afterward.

Their eleventh anniversary was marked by the announcement of a third baby for Roy and Riza. They decided to buy a new car, since the old one was in the shop more than it was on the road these days. The grandchildren presented them with a steel picture frame that had a picture of all of them in it, and across the bottom of the frame was engraved 'We love you Mamaw and Papaw!' so that when the new baby was born the picture could be changed. About two weeks later, Chris had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital, and while she recovered, that frame sat on her bedside table.

In the months before their twelfth anniversary, Chris became depressed and anxious. She kept telling Braeda that she wanted to get all of her affairs in order because she felt like she was getting ready to 'kick the bucket'. Braeda swallowed hard that morning, knowing the day would eventually come when he would have to face his wife's mortality, and he nodded as tears brimmed in his eyes. They preplanned her funeral, chose her grave and her headstone. They decided what outfit she should wear in the coffin, distributed the things she wanted to give away so that she could be sure the proper people received the proper items… And then she resigned herself to waiting to die. On June 6th, Braeda insisted she get dressed up in her favorite silk dress, and he put on a suit and took her to the most lavish restaurant he could find. She poked sadly at her food, barely drank her wine, and when they danced she wouldn't look Braeda in the face. That night, she put on her nightgown and went straight to bed as Braeda sat on the porch drinking a beer and crying silently.

On their thirteenth anniversary, Braeda laid roses wrapped in lace ribbons on her grave. Roy had gone with him simply so he wouldn't have to go alone. It was a lovely spot, right near a huge crepe myrtle bush and overlooking a duck pond. Roy kept his hand on his uncle's shoulder, fighting tears of his own. It hadn't been easy on anyone when she'd died suddenly from a second heart attack two months ago, and the grandchildren took it the hardest, especially Lily.

"She kept her promise," Braeda said quietly. "I asked her for ten and she gave me almost thirteen. Always giving 110%." He wiped violently at his eyes. "Sorry, Roy."

"Don't even mention it. We all miss her," he said as tears of his own slid down his face. "I'm always reminded at times like this how the Elrics came to the conclusion that human transmutation was a good thing."

"Yeah… Me too." He knelt down and kissed the headstone, then stood and turned to leave. "I only wish I could have made her happy those last months." Roy assured him he had made her happy, but to think of how happy could one person be, knowing they were staring down death.

Every anniversary after that, Braeda would lay down flowers on her grave. Sometimes they were a large bouquet he'd bought from a florist, trimmed in sating ribbon with decorative picks stuck in them, sometimes he and his grandchildren would pick fresh flowers from his own garden and fold messages and drawings into Xingese paper flowers and mix in with the blooms. Every anniversary, her birthday, Yule, Beltane and Ostara, he laid flowers down, and he didn't miss one ever, even in the deepest snows of winter where he had to unearth her grave from the snow or in the muddiest rains of summer.

And then came their thirty-seventh anniversary. Lily, Lucy, and Levi, as well as Jackie and Cort placed armloads of flowers on both graves, their own children having folded notes and drawings into the bouquets. "We miss you both, Mamaw and Papaw," Jackie said as she smiled at the stones, one fresh and one faded. Between the two granite slabs stood a small copper statuette of a couple dancing on a cloud, and below that was written:

Married June 6, 1916  
Together Forever

Happy Anniversary  
from your grandchildren

The group left with the satisfaction of knowing that two lovers who had been separated for so long were finally together again. And somewhere beyond the Gate, a couple danced carefree for the first time in decades.

* * *

A/N 2: Okay Madame, I wrote it! *sniff, sob, sniffle, Kleenex* Now can we please get back to writing happy stuff again? *hands Braeda a Kleenex too* Don't ever make me write sad stuff like that again!


	16. Stop and Smell the Flurries

TITLE: Stop and Smell the Flurries  
WORD COUNT: 481  
CHARACTERS: Braeda/Chris  
RATING: Teen  
SUMMARY: The Mustangs get snowed in unexpectedly.  
A/N: Goes with my Whatever it Takes universe, where Braeda and Chris are married and have converted the bar/brothel into a restaurant.

* * *

Even though they never stayed permanently at the brothel, it was good that they'd remodeled the upstairs of the former apothecary. Especially on nights like tonight when snow wasn't expected and it fell faster than anyone thought it could. When the restaurant cleared out rather unexpectedly, Chris pulled back the curtain at the front window and tried not to lose the cigarette from her mouth. Already over six inches of snow had fallen, and Braeda discovered that their car wouldn't start after having sat in the alley in the shade and cold all day long. The girls shared a cab home and the Mustangs closed up for the night and trudged upstairs to their second home.

After a little housekeeping, the place was fresh smelling once more, and Braeda opened the drapes and turned the lights off. He snaked an arm around his wife and brought her to his lap on the sofa and snuggled into her ample bosom.

"The snow's pretty, but not as pretty as you," he said as he planted a kiss to the top of her round breast.

"Thank goodness we had somewhere to stay." Her manicured hand slid into his hair and Braeda let out a soft, grateful groan. "And it's nice warm up here. It stays chilly downstairs in weather like this, what with the door flappin' open and closed all damn day."

Braeda squeezed her and chuckled deep and slow into her embrace. "I can think of a warmer place. Warmer with better entertainment than snow falling outside the window."

Chris smirked as she playfully swatted his head. "Come on now, we can do that anytime. It's not every night we can hole up in here away from everything and just watch the snow. We don't even get much snow here in the city. It's nice."

Braeda gently settled her onto the cushion beside him, pulled her legs up and tossed an afghan over her. "I'll be right back, sweetheart." She heard him jog downstairs, heard distant clanking and smelled the beginnings of hot chocolate. After a few minutes of watching the silvery flakes drift past the window, her husband returned with a carafe of steaming hot goodness, her favorite mug, and a flask of rum.

"When you're right, you're right. Let's take a moment to smell the flurries, my dear." He fixed her up a nice warm cup of 'Rich Rum Cocoa' and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, pulled her feet into his lap and began rubbing her tired feet. When they ended up falling asleep together, their legs tangled around each other, they realized the value of enjoying the moment.

It was short lived though: when they both woke with knots in their back and the realization that there was now fifteen inches of snow on the ground, the Madame's curses could be heard clear down Plumeria Parkway.


	17. Wie Grün Sind Deine Blätter

Drawing I made for this story

 

**Title:** Wie Grün Sind Deine Blätter (How Green Are Your Branches)  
 **Author/Artist:** Sonja Jade  
 **Fandom:** Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Braeda/Madame Christmas  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters within this story based on the series Fullmetal Alchemist  
 **Summary/Teaser:** It's the first time they'd ever seen anything like it before, and Braeda falls immediately in love…  
 **Rating:** PG-13 (Language)  
 **Word Count:** 700

* * *

It was par for the course during winter for Chris Mustang to bitch whenever she had to go out in cold weather. Bluntly, she was an old woman who'd lived a hard lifestyle; the cold made her overused joints ache, and the unforgiving shoes she wore made walking a painful experience if she was going further than a city block. But given it was one of the coldest winters on record (despite the absence of snow, thank goodness) and it was dark and thus colder, she bitched more than usual.

"This better be worth the fuckin' trek, Braeda-Boy," she snarled as she shivered in her heavy wool coat.

"Can't you _try_ to be optimistic, sweetheart? I'm sure if the Drachmans felt this tradition was important enough to share with us, it's got to be somewhat impressive," he replied, his hand and her lower back as if he were helping to push her along the silent sidewalk of Plumeria Parkway. "This is one of their holy religious traditions, and I'm sure Roy wouldn't have authorized several of them to be spread throughout Central if they were just plain old evergreen trees."

"If it's a disappointment, I can tell you exactly where our Yule Log is gonna come from this year," she huffed. They walked on, their breath puffing little white clouds into the frosty air, and then they rounded a corner and saw it from a block away.

"Wow, would ya look at that!" Braeda said as his face lit up.

"I refuse to comment until I see it up close," Chris grumped. They trudged on a little further, and finally they only had to cross the street to get to it. Braeda couldn't stop grinning and after a moment or two of admiring the lights and ornaments, the Madame relented and said quietly, "I didn't expect such a colorful thing. Maybe these Drachmans are on to something…"

Braeda took her hand and led her across the street. They walked through the frost covered grass, right up to the decorated tree. "You know, they call it a Christmas tree."

"Really?" She reached out to touch the ornaments that glinted in the glow of the multicolored lights strung on the tree's branches.

"Yeah, they believe that on December 25th, their savior was born in the Eastern Desert. They called him the Christ child, and in celebration they hold a service called a mass, called Christ's Mass. They shortened it to Christmas and that makes this a Christmas tree."

"You should go on that trivia show they have on Radio Two," his wife said as she continued to inspect the bright baubles and glimmering paper snowflakes. "So my full name is a Drachman holiday, huh? Great, now I have a bar with a dumbass name."

"Relax, no one's gonna notice." A freezing wind blew through the spruce tree and Braeda took a deep breath. "I love that smell…"

Chris looked up to the glowing star that topped the tree. "Well, I hate to admit it, but it sure is a pretty tree. Almost reminds me of the last Promised Day celebration. All those lights look like fireworks on the branches." A colder wind blew and she chattered, "Alright, let's go back. My ass cheeks are about to freeze right off."

Braeda laughed and kissed her temple. "I guess I'll just have to draw us a nice hot bath and spend the rest of the night warming you up then." They turned from the tree and he offered her his arm. "If you see a cab, flag it down."

"I don't mind the walk," Chris sighed as she rested her head on her husband's shoulder.

"The hell you don't!" Braeda laughed. "You griped the whole damn way!"

She squeezed his arm. "That was before I was full of that 'Christmas spirit' the Drachmans talk about." His deep chuckle was like a warm blanket to her.

"The only Christmas spirit you're full of is that wintergreen vodka we got shipped by accident."

The Madame playfully swatted his elbow and broke out into a Yule carol. When Braeda joined her, the first flakes of winter began to fall, and they caroled on, not giving a damn.


	18. It's Permanent Y'Know!

**Title** : It's Permanent, Y'know! **  
Author** : Sonja Jade **  
Series** : Brotherhood **  
Word Count** : 897 **  
Rating** : T (language) **  
Cha** **racter(s)** : Braeda/Chris **  
Summary** : Braeda declares his love for Chris in ink. Permanent ink. On his arm. **  
Author's Notes** : Here is a pic of the tattoo Braeda gets (without the gold fleck of course).

 

* * *

Braeda sat stock still and sweating like crazy. The man with the vibrating needle chuckled as the ex-military man steeled himself against the first sting.

"You're absolutely sure about this?" the rough man with the scarred cheek and scraggly beard asked. "It's gonna be there forever, so if you're not one hundred percent sure, you need to tell me now."

Braeda looked again at the picture the man had pinned to a corkboard on the wall beside him. It was a magpie with all kinds of shiny treasures and an expression that looked curious and vicious at the same time. He'd once told his wife she was just like a magpie, and the bird he was about to have etched into his skin reminded him exactly of her. He smiled at the artist. "I'm absolutely sure."

"Alright then. Remember to breathe…" The tip touched the skin of Braeda's large bicep and black ink mingled with red blood as the first part of the outline came into view. Relieved that this was not going to be the most painful experience of his life, Braeda finally relaxed and watched as the bird on the paper became the bird on his body.

* * *

When he showed up several hours later at Emerald's, the place was busier than rabbits in the spring. He went immediately to his office and quickly changed into his bartending get-up, then shooed Jerrica out to wait tables instead. After dinner rush, he found a moment to say hello to his wife, who was playing hostess and personally seating everyone who walked through the door.

"Good goddamn, that was some rush!" she breathed as she dug under the bar for a new pack of cigarettes. "Everything alright? You overslept again didn't you…" she asked as she lit up. She took a big drag and then shook her finger at him. "I told you to go to the doctor and see if you're anemic!"

Braeda grinned as he shook a martini. "No, I was doing something special for your birthday."

She blinked and then put her hand on her hip. "I hope you didn't spend a whole bunch of money on me."

"Don't worry about that. I got something I think we'll both enjoy!" He patted her ass as she turned to go seat more diners. "I'll show it to you later tonight after we close," he called after her. She nodded as she greeted the people gathering at the door. But for the next three hours she kept coming over and asking him for hints about what is was he'd gotten her. He grinned to himself as he recognized that look in her eyes that likened her to the damn bird in the first place- that 'Oooh, shiny!' curiosity that was written all over her lined face. He knew he could never regret the permanency of the image on his arm now.

Finally, it was closing time. Chris ushered the last person out and locked the door behind them. She helped the girls clean tables and refill the salt and pepper shakers while Braeda got a broom and mop and got the floors cleaned up. Once everything was done, Braeda proudly asked the girls if they would take a look at what he'd gotten the Madame for her birthday.

"I thought for a long time what to get, and I did something I've always wanted to do in a way that would honor my sweetheart." He watched as they all tried to guess what it was, none of them even close to the right answer. "Close your eyes!" Once everyone's eyes were closed, he took his stiff, starched shirt off, uncovered the tattoo, and flexed his left arm. "Alright, you can look!"

Madame opened her eyes and immediately opened her mouth in surprise. "What the hell?"

Vanessa raised her eyebrow. "A tattoo of a bird? How does that honor the Madame?"

Jerrica leaned over to get a closer look. "It's a pretty bird, though."

Chris looked at her husband like he was insane. "That's permanent, y'know!"

"Of course it's permanent!" he said exasperatedly. "It's a magpie, honey! It's _you_ , remember?"

He could see the memory of the animal familiar book floating across her eyes, could almost hear the friendly bickering between them as they argued whether or not she was the magpie to his rook. A smirk bloomed on her tired lips. He gave her one in return. "It's permanent for a reason. There'll never be another for me other than my magpie."

The girls looked at each other in confusion, but when they watched the Madame get misty eyed, they must've figured the sentiment of the freshly inked image really meant something to them both.

Braeda kissed the top of his wife's head. "Now you know why I was late."

She pretended not to sniffle and wiped at her face. "I've got something special for you, too," she said quietly as she began herding everyone toward the door to leave. "But I can't show it to you until we get home."

Truth was she didn't really have anything for him, but she sure gave him a hell of a ride when they went to bed. And the next day, a certain tattoo artist was visited by a heavyset woman with a little mole on her chin, asking for a small raven like bird on her shoulder.


	19. Morning Neccesity

 

 

**Title** : Morning Necessity  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 187  
 **Rating** : G  
 **Cha** **racter(s)** : Braeda/Chris  
 **Summary** : The Madame doesn't do mornings… even at almost noon.  
 **Warnings** : none  
 **Author's Notes** : This is me in the morning, except I don't drink coffee, I drink Coke. Takes place after he's asked her to marry him, but before 'Whatever It Takes'.  
 **Prompt:** Coffee

* * *

Chris stumbles into the kitchen, her nightgown and hair a mess and eyes closed. She knows the way to her place at his kitchen table without even looking now, and that makes Braeda's heart glad in a way he never thought possible.

He glances at the clock and notices it's almost noon. Regardless, he's frying up some potato cakes and eggs, and he asks her, "Did you sleep alright?"

Chris says nothing, doesn't even open her eyes. She only holds up her bare hand in a gesture for him to hold the questions until after she's had some coffee. Her non-verbals delight him to no end and he apologizes as he fixes her a cup of black goodness with cream and five sugars.

He sits the cup down and at last her green eyes open just a smidge. She lifts the cup with the Grand Oatmeal logo on it to her lips and blows across the scalding surface before taking a sip.

"Ahhh," she breathes. "Perfect. And I slept very well, thank you."

He watches her reach for her cigarettes and he smiles. "Good to hear it, Sweetheart."

 


	20. Satin and Lace

**Title** : Satin and Lace  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 988  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Cha** **racter(s)** : Braeda/Chris, Vanessa, Havoc/Sciezka  
 **Summary** : Central City celebrates its first annual drag race with a dance where the girls are boys, the boys are girls, and Havoc is havoc.  
 **Warnings** : none  
 **Author's Notes** : I have a pic in my favorites on deviant art that I've wanted to write a fic to for a long time. This was the perfect opportunity to do that, so I did it! It's called Military Shenanigans and is by FLASOK. Part of the 'Whatever it Takes' universe.  
 **Prompt:** Gender Bender

 

* * *

"I'm _not_ doing it," Braeda grumped as he wiped water spots from a brandy sniffer.

The girls cried out in protest, insisting that he participate in the bar's Dragster Dance. Aerugoan engineers had developed a car that could go from zero to sixty kilometers per hour in under ten seconds, and the Amestrians on the border developed a type of competitive sport called drag racing. It was catching on like wildfire and Central's first drag race had prompted Madame Christmas to invite everyone down to her restaurant for a dance that encouraged cross dressing.

"Oh come _on_ , Mr. Madame!" Vanessa moaned. "You don't ever wanna do anything fun with us! It's all work and no play with you!"

"I play plenty," he remarked, tossing a grin at his wife. "Don't I, Chris?"

She grinned back and flipped her ashes. "Yes, but I have to admit, I wonder what you'd look like in a pair of fishnets."

Braeda's shoulders slumped and Chris looked thoughtful for a moment as the girls waited anxiously to see what her verdict would be. Finally she stubbed her cigarette out and slid off the barstool. "I'll dress you up at home and then I'll decide. If it turns out you make a beautiful woman, I'm afraid I'll have to force you."

Braeda sighed and went back to cleaning the glasses behind the bar, and hoped he made one atrocious sight in whatever get up she had planned for him.

* * *

The night of the dance, Madame stood beaming by the makeshift stage in a three piece suit, wingtip shoes, and a fedora hat. The event was turning out to be a huge success with entertainment and contests for the best and worst cross dressed individuals. The girls were fawning over the men's outfits and makeup and the men were turned on by the women around them who were comfortable in their bodies, no matter what clothes they had on.

To her delight, her Roy-Boy showed up in a dark gray sequined evening gown, flawless makeup and a wavy brunette wig. So long as he didn't speak, no one would have guessed it was him. And Riza was no slouch either. Her blonde hair was slicked down and combed just right, and she wore a casual button up shirt and vest with khaki trousers and borrowed oxford shoes. She wore Roy's pocket watch like she'd owned it for years and she never left Roy's side all night.

Vanessa wore a ridiculous looking Cretan 'Zoot Suit' in a vibrant red, Jerrica donned a baseball jersey and tucked her hair up under her hat, and India wore ripped jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt that showed off a plethora of temporary henna tattoos, a spiked leather vest and heavy black boots. And then there was Braeda…

Madame had him in her finest fishnet stockings, the seams going up the backs of his thick legs (which Madame had meticulously shaved, as well as his chest). She wrestled him into a black strapless mini-dress and helped him tuck himself between his legs to further complete the transformation. After adding a few simple accessories, she deemed him gorgeous and trotted him out in public.

After arriving at the restaurant, she saw him sulking about. "It's only one night, honey," she soothed as her smoky lips kissed his cheek. "All the other guys will be in dresses, so there's nothing to worry about." She glanced up at the clock. "It's almost time. You ready?"

"No," Braeda answered, sounding like a petulant teenager.

"Tough titty, Braeda-Boy. Let's show 'em what we got." She clapped him on the shoulder and steered him toward the bar, and now they were watching Vanessa emcee over the best dressed 'men'.

Braeda felt a tap to his forearm, and he looked over to find a spectacled 'man' dressed like a page boy and grinning from ear to ear. "What's a dame like you doing behind the bar? Come dance with me!"

Braeda recognized Sciezka's voice immediately. "I don't think so, handsome. These heels are murder on a fat broad's feet."

She smiled, "Then let's go outside and get some air."

He nodded and hollered for his wife to come play bartender for a few minutes, then followed Sciezka out to the back alley. In the shadows between the buildings sat a pickup truck and a tall blond with a cigarette, and Braeda groaned.

"Now _that's_ a woman!" Havoc crowed as he snapped a picture.

"Shut up, asshole!" Braeda covered his face as the flashbulb went off again. "And quit taking pictures!"

Havoc feigned a hurt look, then strolled toward his friend and put his arm around him. "And I was gonna ask you to come home with me!" He laughed as Braeda shoved him away. "C'mon, sour puss! One more picture and I'll never bother you again!"

Braeda sighed. "One more, and that's it."

"Just hold this for me, okay?" Havoc grinned as he passed a hot dog to him. Braeda arched his eyebrow and Havoc sniggered, "You needed a prop, my lady."

Braeda huffed and adjusted his posture as Havoc directed him. "Stand up straight, it'll make your tits look perkier! Now cradle that hot dog like it's made of gold… Hold still…" The camera flashed and Havoc howled with laughter. "You got some balls to wear something like that, but damn if I can see 'em!"

Braeda rolled his eyes and began to eat his prop. On one hand, he was upset that Havoc would take a photo of him in the most embarrassing outfit he'd ever worn. But on the other hand, if there was proof of what he looked like dressed as a woman, maybe his wife wouldn't make him do it ever again.

When he saw an enlarged copy of it on her desk the week after the party, he only smiled in remembrance. "I should've worn an empire waist," was his only comment.


	21. Not Another Children's Song

**Title** : Not Another a Children’s Song  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 855  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Chris, Lily  
 **Summary** : Lily Mustang spends the night with her Mamaw and Papaw.  
 **Warnings** : 2 bad words XD  
 **Author's Notes** : Dedicated to [](http://missyquill.livejournal.com/profile)[**missyquill**](http://missyquill.livejournal.com/) who needs some love from my muse.  Part of my 'Whatever it Takes' universe.

  


The Clover Creek apartment complex was surrounded by covert agents all trained to the teeth to defend the Führer’s daughter.  Lily Mustang was spending the night at her grandparents’ place and Riza took extra care to make sure her little girl would be well protected.

Of course, it helped to know that the Madame kept a .22 pistol in her fancy bra at all times and that Braeda had a few firearms in the apartment if needed, put away out of his granddaughter’s reach of course.

Chris shut and bolted the door for the night and Lily promptly jerked her shoes off and ran toward the kitchen where Braeda was pulling fresh cookies from the oven.  “Papaw!” she exclaimed as she bounced and clapped her hands.

“What, sweetie?” he smiled as she turned her big brown eyes up at him.

“I wanna see the fishies!”  Her dark hair was pulled into a short ponytail, and it swung back and forth as she hopped around the tile floor in her frilly little girl socks.

Braeda laughed.  “Let me finish up here first and then we’ll go look at them.”  She squealed in delight and proceeded to dance around the room, twirling in circles and causing her dress to open up like a flower.

Madame walked toward their bedroom carrying Lily’s tiny overnight suitcase.  “Why don’t you sing me a song while we wait for Papaw, Lily-Bean!”

The girl stopped dancing immediately and ran to the couch.  She climbed up and stood tall and straight and still, then cleared her throat comically until finally she could wait no longer.  “Come back, Mamaw, I’m ready now!”

Braeda washed his hands and grabbed the camera from the top of the bookcase just as Chris rounded the corner to the living room.  “What song are we going to hear tonight, Lady Lily?” Chris asked as she curtsied as low as she could.

“I don’t know what it’s called.  I heard the girls in the laundry room singing it!” she chirped.  “Are you ready Papaw?”

Braeda focused the camera and said, “The newspaper will pay big bucks for this shot!” he teased.  As she began to sing, he snapped a picture of her with her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth and arms wide open.

And then his jaw dropped as he recognized the song…

  
 _“There was a young fellow from Sparta, who could flatulate ballads and airs,  
He could blow out a pretty sonata, and accompany musical chairs;  
One day he attempted an opera - it was hard, but he just wouldn't quit -  
With his head held aloft, he suddenly coughed and collapsed in a mountain of…”_ She stopped, cupped her mouth with her little hands and whispered loudly, “I can’t say that word, Mamaw.”  
  
Chris threw her head back and roared laughter. “Shit!” she shouted, gasping for breath between peals of laughter.  
  
Braeda was grinning but looking seriously at his wife as if she’d lost her mind. “Don’t you think we should tell her to stop?” he murmured as she picked up the tune again.  
  
Madame shook her head. “If we make a big deal about it, it’ll stick even longer. She’ll forget it in time.”  
  
 _“I know that these verses are scanty, the rhyme seems too much for my wit,  
I start out like Armstrong and Grumman, but somehow I end up with...”_ she looked toward her grandparents expectantly.  
  
“Shit!” they chorused together. They watched as she bowed ridiculously low and then jumped off the couch and ran toward Braeda, who picked her up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You sing like a lark, Lily-Bean.”  
  
“Can we see the fishies now?” she asked, the song completely forgotten, just as Madame foretold.  
  
“Of course, sweetheart.” He watched as she rubbed at her eyes. “Then we’ll get you into your pajamas and we’ll have some cookies while we listen to the Shaman of Xerxes, okay?” She nodded with a wide smile as he carted her into the bedroom.  
  
He pointed out the Xingese fighting fish, the striped angelfish, the colorful Cretan cichlids, the kissing gouramies, the loaches and barbs and tetras… Then he helped her from the expensive and much too frilly dress and socks and put her in a much tamer cotton nightgown, handed her a well loved dolly from her suitcase, then the three of them gathered around the radio with cookies and milk (though Mamaw had a milky looking White Drachman).  
  
Not long after the Shaman of Xerxes began, Lily started yawning. Closer to the end, she was sleeping soundly in Chris’ lap. Her hand drifted through Lily’s soft black hair. “I told you she’d forget about that song. You should’ve heard some of the things Roy’d pop off with.”  
  
Braeda chuckled, “I can imagine. You ready to call it a night?” he asked as he got up and switched the radio off. When she nodded, he gently took Lily so Madame could get to her feet. She switched the lights off as Braeda led them all to the bedroom. He settled Lily in the middle of their big and he and Chris surrounded her in safety.


	22. Baskets and Gradey

**Title** : Baskets and Gradey  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 857  
 **Rating** : K  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Chris, Lily Mustang (Lily’s POV)  
 **Summary** : Lily gets the morning rolling at Mamaw and Papaw’s house, and she reflects on the differences between the Big House (Führer’s Mansion) and the Little Place (Mamaw and Papaw’s apartment).  
 **Warnings** : You’ll need an insulin shot after this…  
 **Author's Notes** : I got the urge to write a second part to Not Another Children’s Song (where Lily entertains her grandparents with a bawdy tune she picked up from the laundry staff at the mansion).  And though this is not the first time she has told Braeda she loves him, this is the first time she’s saying it of her own will and consciousness. It chokes our beloved Braeda-Boy up a little (awww!).

  


A little girl with dark hair sticking in all directions sat up in the middle of a large bed.  She rubbed her eyes and then yawned wide, and then immediately flopped on her still sleeping grandmother.

“Mamaw!  It’s time to get up!” she said cheerfully.

The portly woman beneath her grumbled and said sleepily, “Lily-bean, Mamaw’s still tired, okay baby?”

“Oh,” Lily pouted.  She laid down and grabbed her doll, rolled to her side and really tried to go back to sleep.  After a few minutes, she huffed and sat up again.  “But I’m hungry and I gotta pee!” she whined.

Mamaw groaned and called her husband’s name.  “Brae-daaaa…”

He mumbled something that sounded like ‘dammit all to hell’, but he got up with a smile and held his hand out to help Lily down from the bed.  “Can you manage the potty by yourself?”

“Yes!” she chirped, and skipped into the bathroom.  Braeda went in with her to brush his teeth (but Lily had a feeling it was really to keep an eye on her and make sure she did everything she was supposed to do, and not play with the shiny things like razors and curling irons that she shouldn’t touch) and then he asked her what she’d like for breakfast.

“Can we have baskets and gradey, Papaw?”

Braeda chuckled as he opened the fridge and poured her a glass of milk.  “I think you mean biscuits and gravy.  And yes, we can.  Can you sit and drink your milk while I get everything ready?”

While Papaw worked to make biscuit dough and fix breakfast for the three of them, Lily sang him some nursery rhymes and other little songs, none of them getting the same reaction as the one she’d sung them last night, the one with the dirty words she learned from the girls in the laundry room at the Big House she and Mommy and Daddy lived in.  Papaw put her in charge of watching the biscuits while he fried up some sausage and made the gravy.  By the time he’d finished, Mamaw came out to the kitchen, groggy and grumpy until after she had that first cup of coffee.

“Mamaw!” Lily shouted and came running to hug her large leg.  “I got to help cook the bicksets!  I had to watch them to make sure they didn’t burn!”  At home in the Big House, she was never allowed in the kitchen.  Too many hot things and too many sharp things to hurt her were in there, and Mommy said she wasn’t allowed to help cook because she was too small.  But here at Mamaw and Papaw’s, the kitchen was small, like her.  And Papaw always seemed happy when he was cooking something special for everyone.

“Good girl!” Mamaw smiled at her, lighting a cigarette and taking her coffee to the rocking chair near the patio door.  “Now stay over there and keep my chair warm until I finish my smoke, okay?” she asked as she flipped a fan on, blowing the trail of smoke out the door and into Papaw’s herb garden.

Lily’s favorite job was keeping Mamaw’s chair warm.  “Okay!”  She climbed up and laid on her belly in the seat, little legs kicking in the air.  At home in the Big House, her nursemaid would scold her for doing this because her nightgown bunches up around her waist and her panties show, and that makes it ‘unladylike’.  Mamaw told her she didn’t have to be a lady at her house, because Mamaw wasn’t a lady herself.  Lily loved spending time at the Little Place with Mamaw and Papaw and the fishies in the great big tank with the neat purple lights.

Papaw started setting food on the table, saying, “Tables are for eats, not feets,” as he swatted her toes away from the edge of the table.

“Sorry!” Lily cried, curling her toes up tight and pulling her legs up to meet her backside.  “I’m keepin’ Mamaw’s chair warm!”

“I think it’s plenty warm, kiddo.  Let’s get you in _your_ seat so we can have some breakfast.”  He hefted Lily to his chest and she kissed his cheek.

“You’re the best papaw in the whooooooole world, Papaw!”

She didn’t understand why Papaw looked like he was going to cry, but Mamaw came over and kissed his cheek too, and said, “I think you’re absolutely right, Lily-Bean.  And what a great breakfast you two made together!”

Lily giggled.  “I just watched the bicksets, Papaw made _everything_!”

“And what do we say when someone does something we really appreciate or like?” Madame questioned as she spooned gravy onto a biscuit on Lily’s plate.

“Thank you, Papaw,” she said with a big smile.  “I love you!”

Papaw’s cheeks turned red and he wiped at his eyes and then coughed funny…  Then he said, “I love you too, Lily…  Very, very much.  Now eat up, there’s plenty for everyone.”

Lily dug into her breakfast as they all talked about what to do with the day, and she wished Mommy and Daddy could have as much fun at the Little Place as she did.

 


	23. Twice is Nice

**Title** : Twice is Nice  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 468  
 **Rating** : M  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Chris  
 **Summary** : Someone brought work to bed with them and Chris is having none of it.  
 **Warnings** : sexy tiems

 

 

 

Braeda moved rhythmically inside her, but Chris was _not_ feeling it tonight.  Not when he rambled on and on about completely unromantic things…

“Need to get the catering truck plated soon…  Can’t believe we’ve already got a rehearsal dinner to do.  Wonder if we need to get tablecloths and napkins or if the client already has something in mind…”

Chris buried her face in the blankets on the bed and tried her best to tune him out.  Braeda was one of the best lovers she’d ever had, but this was boring and monotonous and- well, not very good.  Even in doggy position where it was easy to be phenomenal, her husband was downright near _awful_.

“I guess if we’re responsible for the plates and utensils we’re probably responsible for the table wear too, I suppose.  Wonder if I should call up Linnig’s and ask them-”

Chris growled and crawled away from him.  “Alright, that’s enough.”

“Where are you going?” Braeda asked dazedly, his hands dangling by his hips as he continued to kneel in the middle of the bed.  Chris could feel his eyes on her as she went to _that_ drawer in her vanity, the one with all the _toys_.  “Hey!  I’m right here y’know!” he said in a hurt voice as she crawled back into bed, propping herself up on some pillows and taking matters into her own hands.

“No you’re not, you’re still buried in your new catering service at the bar.  When you’re ready to get serious and quit runnin’ your mouth, I’ll be right here.”  She thumbed on the switch to her favorite vibrator and closed her eyes as it buzzed to life.  She massaged herself and cleared her mind, and just as she was beginning to enjoy it, she felt the bed moving.  Then she felt warm skin and the tickle of soft hair against her inner thighs.

That was more like it.

“I’m sorry.  Let me make it up to you,” was all he said.  And he made good on his promise.  He made it up to her four times.  And when she forgave him and let him fill her insides with white warmth, he made it up to her again.

In the afterglow, she stroked his hair as he nursed sleepily from her breast.  “New rule.  You don’t bring work into this bedroom, and I don’t imply that my toys are better than you.”

He hummed his agreement, then released her from his mouth.  “And when we have makeup sex we get to do it twice,” he grinned as he wrapped her legs around him once more.

She chuckled as he slipped inside of her.  “You’re gonna be the death of me, Braeda-Boy, but what a glorious way to go!”  After that, she wasn’t capable of too many more words.


	24. Mountain Jasper

**Title** : Mountain Jasper  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 219  
 **Rating** : G/E  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda (maybe also a ghost?)  
 **Summary** : That damn plant just wouldn’t bloom…  
 **Warnings** : ; ___ ; Kleenex alert (or at least I needed them)  
 **Author's Notes** : part of my Whatever it Takes ‘verse, though you don’t have to read that to get this.  
 **Prompt:** Mystery

 

 

Only those who knew Braeda well knew he loved to garden in his spare time (but only in pots because he wasn’t having none of that “on-your-knees-digging-up-weeds bullshit”).  There was a particular plant he’d had since before he met his now deceased wife, Chris Mustang.  It was a finicky mountain flower that he knew could flourish in Central’s moderate climate, but it never really filled out and not once had it ever bloomed. Neither he nor Roy’s gardener at the mansion could figure out why.  Braeda had to just accept that the pale blue blossoms that were promised on the little plastic tag would likely never show their trumpet shaped faces.

And then one day about a month after he’d buried Chris, they did.

He came outside to water the potted plants as usual, and he saw that not only did the foliage look greener and fuller, but there were buds all over it and one had cracked open just enough that he could see the sky blue petals inside.  He blinked, then bent down to sniff-

It smelled like _her_ ; like Madame’s favorite perfume.  Somehow, he got the feeling that he wasn’t alone out here on his porch anymore.  A warm breeze caressed his cheeks as tears spilled down them.

“Nice to have ya back, Sweetheart,” he smiled.


	25. Midwinter on a Budget

****   


**Title** : Midwinter on a Budget  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 1,100  
 **Rating** : PG  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Chris Mustang  
 **Summary** : Chris gives Braeda a ridiculous budget for his Yule gift, and is surprised when he surpasses her expectations.  
 **Warnings** : Old married couple banter lol  
 **Author's Notes** : I’m sorry that I’m not sorry for my ship.  Also, if you don’t know what the slang version of ‘box’ means, I suggest you look it up.  It might be kind of an old slang word now…  
 **Prompt:** Stockings

 

Midwinter was a busy season for all of Amestris, particularly Central City.  People would come in on the train to buy festive gifts, see the decorated shops, eat the rich foods and drink the seasonal wines and cocktails, to skate on the country’s largest ice rink, and to make special memories with their friends and family.

The bars, restaurants and inns were normally stuffed beyond capacity at this busy time of year, right up until Yule night when it was customary to spend the evening gathered around one’s own hearth with family.  This meant that Madame Christmas was making money hand over fist, just the way she liked it.

Their old bar would have made a killing as it was, laden down with Central citizens, usually employees of said festive attractions, bemoaning the shopping rush and longing for Yule when it would finally all be over.  But now that she owned a _restaurant_ , they killed _triple_.

Emerald’s had never had a line before the first Midwinter they were open. It went down the block, nearly to the corner.  The cooks worked non-stop at a frightening pace, and Madame’s girls were moving constantly.  They’d hired four more just to wait tables and two to tend bar.  The write up on the fare available was a hit in the national paper, so when the yearly flux of visitors came, they brought their appetites and willingness to try something new with them.  And now that they were in their fourth year, that line had only grown over the years.

At last, Yule would come and the rush would end.  She let the extra people go and their usual crowd returned once more.  One night, after the place was closed for the day and she and Braeda were working the books, he pushed his readers up on top of his head and smiled at her.

“We never dip into our profits from Midwinter, but I’d really like to get you something nice for Yule.”

She made a face at him. “Yule’s over, honey.  I made it through just fine without any presents, thank you very much.”

He shook his head at her. “Nah, I don’t like that answer,” he declared as he put his glasses back on the end of his nose.  “I’m gonna get you something anyway.”

“Please don’t.  If you want to get someone something, get the baby something to play with.”

He huffed.  “Please, like Roy doesn’t spoil that child as it is.  What do you get a toddler who has everything?”

“A carrot for her pony.”

“A pair of earplugs and a blanket to get away from all those noisy toys her daddy buys her,” Braeda chuckled.  “No, I’m going to get you something nice.”

She narrowed her eyes, then pulled a small amount of money from the deposit, scrawling out a note in the books listing it as ‘petty cash’.  “Here.  That’s all you get to spend.”

Braeda cocked his brow at her.  “You saying you want me to buy you a copy of the evening paper and a donut?  C’mon, I gotta have more than that!”

“ ‘That’ is all you get.  Make it count, soldier!” she said as she closed her ledger and put it away in the wall safe.  “Now let’s finish up, I’m ready for a week long nap!”

He grumbled, but he agreed with her that a few days rest was definitely in order.  He pocketed the small bills and took her hand as they left.

The next few days Chris kept her eye on the books, watching to make sure her impetuous (but well-meaning) husband didn’t take anything extra from the account.  After a while, she figured he must have indeed spent it on a paper and some donuts, because it was a few weeks before he presented her with a wrapped package at their little apartment.

She gave him a little smirk as she examined the small box.  “Took ya long enough!”

He feigned a hurt look and made to grab it back from her, but she snatched it up from her lap and held it to her chest.  “I had to wait for a _sale_ since someone didn’t give me a whole lot of money!  But if that’s how you really feel, then I’ll give it to someone who’ll appreciate my gift!”

Chris swatted his hands away, explaining that she had to see what he came up with on such a short budget first, and then he could give it away.  He sat down on the couch next to her and she began to tear the bright green paper and white ribbons away.  The box bore the store logo of a lingerie boutique and she chuckled.  “I bet it’s half a pair of panties,” she teased.

“Just open the box,” Braeda urged, his tone irritated, but his eyes dancing with excitement.  Chris sighed dramatically and did as he’d asked.

Inside was a pair of brand new Xingese silk stockings, in a sheer black color, that went over the knee and had a fine straight seam up the back of the leg.  And while most gift givers would have taken the price tags off their item, Braeda had left them on as a testament to his budgeting skills.  “Eighty-five Cenz!?”

“Mm-hmm,” he intoned.  “And even after having it gift wrapped, I still had enough for a donut- which I enjoyed very much, by the way.”

She took the hosiery from the box and unfurled the rolled up legs onto her lap.  “And look!  There’s a bow where the seam ends!” she pointed out to him.  “These are much nicer than those nylon things that rip and run on me all the time!”

“You like them, then?” he asked, looking very much like a hopeful child who prays he’s done something to make his mother smile.

Her bejeweled hand came to his face.  “I love them, Braeda.  Thank you so much.”  She leaned over and kissed him.  “And now you get to have your present!”

“You got me something, too?”

Chris rose and started walking toward their bedroom.  “Well, it’s just a box really, and it’s not even a new one.  It’s kind of old and beat up, but I think you’ll like it well enough,” she winked as Braeda laughed from the couch.  “You might want to open it in the dark though, and take your time trying to figure out what might be inside it…”

Luckily she didn’t have to entice him to open his present too much, and they spent the rest of the evening exploring that old box together.


	26. One More Glass

**Title:** One More Glass  
 **Author/Artist:** Sonja Jade  
 **Fandom:** Fullmetal Alchemist  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Braeda/Chris  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters within this story based on the series by Hiramu Arakawa  
 **Summary/Teaser:** “ _Now_ who’s drunk?” she laughed.  
 **Rating:** PG13  
 **Word Count:** 530

WRITTEN FOR THE LJ COMMUNITY 12_DAYSOFFICMAS

 

“C’mon, Braeda-boy,” Madame slurred.  “Have anoth’r glass of champagne w’th me!”

He grinned at her, a little half past tipsy himself.  “I told ya, sweetheart- I don’t like that bubbly piss water.  I’d rather have a lager!”

“Now that’s piss water,” she frowned as she poured herself another glass.

“I think this better be your last one, or you won’t be able to make it to the bed,” he remarked as he watched her struggle to light a cigarette.  He sighed, snatched the lighter away and lit it for her.  “Come on, old gal.  A quick dance around the kitchen and then our New Year’s celebration is over until next year.”

“Uuuggghh!” she groaned.  “Alright, fine.  But ‘ts only ‘cause I’m gettin’ sleepy.”

Braeda stood, bowed to his wife, then took her hand.  “May I have this dance, m’lady?”

“What’s innit for me?” she smirked.

He laughed through his nose as he shook his head.  “You mean spending the rest of your life with me isn’t the best exchange?”

She tilted her head comically to the side in thought, then chuckled, “No I guess yer right.  One dance for a few years?  I thin’ you might be gettin’ shortchanged, honey.”

He leaned down and kissed her tenderly.  “Never.  This is the best bargain I’ve ever gotten.”

“ _Now_ who’s drunk?” she laughed as he tugged her to her bare feet, her sharp stiletto heels kicked off in some other room of their small apartment.

“Just hang on to me,” he mumbled.  “If you feel like you’re gonna fall, we’ll stop.”

The radio played some popular slow tune and Braeda’s arms wrapped around Chris’ back.  She laid her head on his chest and from time to time would tilt her head back and rub his furry chin with her forehead. 

“Hey,” she murmured.  “This is one of my favorite nights of the year.  Jus’ you and me and somethin’ to drink.”

Braeda smiled.  “We have a lot of nights like that, sweetheart.”

“But this ‘s one of those nights we dance.”  She snuggled into his chest and held his hand tighter.  “Of all the things we do well together, we dance together the best.”

“Doesn’t say much for my lovemaking,” he teased.

“No, yer incredible… jus’ it’s nice to just dance sometimes, too- y’know?” 

Braeda looked down at her, her green eyes glassy and dazed.  He understood what she meant.  He twirled her slowly across the kitchen, then dipped her back far enough that her long ponytail puddled in the floor.  “Yeah, it _is_ nice to dance.”  Then he captured her lips as he raised her back upright.  Her breath puffed warm and slow on his cheek and he decided that was enough dancing for one night.

“Time for bed, my dear,” he murmured in her ear as he held her close.

“I don’t wanna go to sleep,” she complained weakly, though she was clearly tired.

“Who said anything about sleeping?”

She chuckled as he turned her in his arms and began guiding her to their bedroom.  “Th’ Holly King’s gonna give you a Naughty rock.”

“It’s worth it, trust me,” he replied as he kissed the back of her neck.  “Well worth it.”


	27. I'll Love You Forever

**Title** : I’ll Love You Forever  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 729  
 **Rating** : G  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda  
 **Summary** : He refuses to let her death kill him.  
 **Warnings** : SAD T___T  
 **Author's Notes** : No beta because I dragged my feet (again!), and I wrote this really long before I realized I was rambling in my own headcanon.  I cried the entire time.  My apologies for any tear stains Part of my Whatever it Takes universe.  All you have to know is Braeda and Madame Christmas get married and he takes _her_ last name.  
 **Prompt:** Character Death (what a hurtful prompt!!)

 

“Mr. Mustang… I’m sorry…”

Braeda looked down at the doctor’s shoes, swallowing thickly.  The only thing he was aware of was a deep and sudden feeling of being completely alone.  The woman he loved, the lady he’d taken as his bride, who taught him as much he taught her, lay dead in a bed just across the hall from where he was now sitting.  He felt like he was going to throw up.

“If you’d like to say goodbye to her, we’ll give you plenty of time.”  The doctor’s voice was somber.  “We did all we could.  Her ticker was just too far gone for us to save.”

Braeda nodded.  The whole family knew her heart was bad, and Chris herself had predicted it would be a heart attack that would take her from this world and into the next.  “I can-” he began, choking back tears so he could finish his sentence.  “I can see her?”

“Of course.  I’ll let the nurse know you’ll be in her room so as not to disturb you.”  He patted Braeda on the shoulder and apologized again before walking down the hall to another patient.  Braeda stood on shaking legs and forced himself to walk into the hospital room…

The door creaked as he slowly opened it.  The fluorescent light overhead hummed and buzzed, and there was his darling woman, lying flat on her back with her hands by her sides, only further making it real for Braeda.  Chris never laid flat on her back, unless he was making love to her.  She had a pinched nerve and lying that way for too long irritated it.  She slept on her side, knees drawn up toward her belly and Braeda’s arms around her.  In addition to feeling alone, he also suddenly felt cold.  His arms would never hold her close to his chest ever again, he would never hear her snore again, never feel her icy feet brush against him in the night…

He felt his bottom lip wobbling uncontrollably.  He bit it as fat tears rolled down his cheeks and his nose began to run.  He sniffled and the sound echoed in the room.  He reached out to touch her slack face and he was surprised to feel a touch of warmth still there.  She was so pale.  He went on to stroke her hair, the roots grown out about half an inch and revealing a crown of silver under the dark mane she maintained

He chuckled then, the sound not at all pleasant as it bounced off the stark white walls.  “If I knew you were making your grand exit, I would have brought your mascara,” he said as his voice wavered.  When she was in between dye jobs, she would brush mascara onto her roots so she could go out in public without worry.  He guessed he would never look at a tube of mascara the same after Chris.

He dragged the chair over to her bedside and sat down heavily.  He reached out and took her still hand, which was considerably colder than her cheek, folded his other arm under his forehead and sobbed into the mattress.  She’d kept her promise- ten years of marriage (they’d been married for twelve, so she actually gave him a bonus) and a smile every day, even when he was sure she didn’t feel like smiling.  As he cried, he realized how much she’d affected and shaped him in the relatively short time they’d been together

Once they had a conversation about what would happen after she passed.  “Don’t stop living just because I do,” she’d chided him, cigarette dangling from her mouth.  “Get out and find someone else to make you happy.”  

He shook his head, his fingers holding desperately to her stiff hand.  “I’ll love you forever!” he wailed.  “Until _I_ die, I’ll love you forever!"

He didn’t leave her side until the mortician came to claim her body.  He stood up, wiped his face, then leaned down and kissed her cold lips.  Tears splashed down on her permanently painted cheeks.  “Be safe, old girl.  I’ll see you again someday.”   He could’ve sworn he saw her grin, just a minute, tiny, little smirk.  He smiled as he stroked her hair one last time.  “I love you, Chris.  Always and forever, sweetheart.”

His eyes were dry when he left her body behind.


	28. C'mere, Big Boy!

**Title** : C’mere, Big Boy!  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 857  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Madame Christmas  
 **Summary** : After a smuggling deal gone sour, Chris returns from the north to a wonderful evening with her husband, complete with a lovely surprise.  
 **Warnings** : Old married couple cheesiness, talk of illegal arms smuggling  
 **Author's Notes** : [](http://seta-suzume.livejournal.com/profile)[**seta_suzume**](http://seta-suzume.livejournal.com/) drew me this [BEAUTIFUL art ](http://i.imgur.com/mxVhGmq.jpg)for the Valentine’s Day exchange at [](http://fmagiftexchange.livejournal.com/profile)[**fmagiftexchange**](http://fmagiftexchange.livejournal.com/) , and when I saw the prompt it was all I could think of.  Thanks to [](http://bay115.livejournal.com/profile)[**bay115**](http://bay115.livejournal.com/) for the beta work!  
 **Prompt:** Pink slip  
  
  
  
  
She stepped off the train and strode angrily toward her husband, who’d already retrieved her luggage.  “That’s the last damn time I make that journey,” Chris snarled as she approached Braeda, who stood with open arms.  She hugged him tight and sagged into his embrace as he kissed the top of her head.  
  
“Bad trip?”  
  
“The worst,” she replied, sighing as she let him go.  “I told them they can expect to see Jerrica next time.  I’m too old to be travelling so far for so little gain.”  
  
“Well, you’re home now.  And the girls are covering for us tonight, so we don’t have to go to the bar.”  They wove through the crowds to the parking lot, where Braeda loaded the backseat with three suitcases and ushered his lady into their old car.  He started the engine and drove them to their apartment, just outside downtown Central in a small tenant complex called Clover Creek.  Chris lit a cigarette once they got rolling and her husband asked, “How many did you get this time?”  
  
“Only five hundred.  I told him for all the effort I have to go through on my end to secure payment, he should give me at least seven-fifty.  Damn Drachmans, never caring about the supplier, only their damn money.”  
  
“If they’d quit being arrogant about it, they could just do their arms dealing in public and save everyone involved a lot of headaches.”  He stopped at a red light.  “How’d the Aerugoan take it?”  
  
“Pissed, naturally.  But there’s nothing I can do about it.  I still get paid the same, he just gets half the guns he asked for.”  Chris was beyond disappointed with the whole deal and she shook her head.  “I just want to put the whole thing behind me.”  
  
Braeda laughed.  “No problem, sweetheart.  I’ve got a pot roast in the pressure cooker and I bought some of that fancy bubble soap you like so much.  So you can have a nice hot meal, a cold glass of scotch and a nice hot soak when you get home.”  He reached down and squeezed her hand as the light turned green.  “Like you said, nothing can be done now.  Just try to enjoy the rest of the night, okay?”  
  
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, leaving a print of her lipstick behind.  “Aye, Captain,” she smiled.  
  
After a glorious dinner of roast with all the trimmings, the best scotch she’d had in over a week, and an hour long soak in her favorite bubbles, she climbed from the tub and wrapped herself in a big towel.  She wandered into her bedroom to find a wrapped box on the bed.  
  
“What’s this?” she called.  
  
“A present since you had such a bad trip!” Braeda answered.  “Open it!”  
  
Not one for needing to be told twice, she pulled the ribbon off and lifted the lid.  Inside was a slip of fine silk, in a deep pink color with fine lace trimming and a pair of fishnet stockings, trimmed in the same color pink.  She chuckled to herself, then yelled, “Is this a present for me or you?”  She heard him laughing and couldn’t help a grin.    
  
“Just put it on!  I’ve got another surprise for you when you’re ready!”  
  
He didn’t have to twist her arm too much to get her into the lingerie- it was her favorite color, and the silk was so soft against her skin.  Even the fishnets were soft, and after tugging on her black silk garter belt (used only for special occasions in the bedroom), she rearranged the pillows on the bed and called for her husband to join her.  
  
“Come and get it, tiger!” she teased.  
  
Braeda sauntered into the room, trying to be dramatic and cool but looking more silly and cheesy in his worn out bathrobe.  He began to hum a sassy tune and made a show of untying his belt.  Chris couldn’t help a laugh at his impromptu show.  
  
“Are you sure you can handle this?” he said, his back to her and looking at her over his shoulder.  “I don’t wanna scare you with this beast.”  
  
“You didn’t know?  I’m a beast tamer,” she purred.  
  
“Alright, honey… you asked for it!”  
  
He slowly turned around, his fingers tightly holding the edges of the robe, and all at once he flung the garment open, revealing snug pink silk underwear, cut in the exotic Cretan style she’d seen in a travel magazine ad.  
  
Her eyebrows shot up and a grin bloomed on her face.  “Ahh, so the boy _does_ know where to find a banana hammock!”  
  
“It’s actually pretty comfortable,” he said as his hands fell to his sides and he shrugged the robe off one shoulder.  “But I still can’t wait to get it off.”  
  
Chris crooked a finger at him and smiled wickedly, unable to take her eyes off the neat, pink package of her husband’s fancy britches.  “Let me see if I can help you out of that beautiful thing, then.”  
  
The robe fell completely away and he was too happy to crawl to her side.


	29. Pea Shooter

**Title** : Pea-Shooter  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 935  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Madame Christmas (back when Braeda was still paying for his time with her)  
 **Summary** : Braeda asks to see Madame’s gun and discovers she’s not as lethal as she thinks she is.  
 **Warnings** : Oh lawd, so many technical gun things!  Google is your friend people!  
 **Author's Notes** : So I had this idea around Christmas time that the little gun Chris keeps in her bra (headcanon, sorry) wouldn't even fire from being full of dusting powder, sweat, dirt and perfume.  So after doing some extensive research, I wrote it out at last.  Wanna see what Chris' [gun looks like](http://ep.yimg.com/ca/I/yhst-91791456840515_2255_9297282)?  Huge thanks to my awesome beta [](http://bay115.livejournal.com/profile)[**bay115**](http://bay115.livejournal.com/).

 

 

“Let me see your pistol,” Braeda commented one night as he sat nursing a beer at the bar.  
  
Chris eyed him warily as she freshened her own drink.  “What for?” she said with a doubting lilt to her voice.  
  
“I’m genuinely interested in what it looks like,” the round red-head answered.  “I wanna see how it feels in my hand compared to my service piece.”  
  
She cocked her eyebrow then dug into her bra, fishing around for the small .22 caliber Derringer she kept on her at all times.  Upon finding it, she wiped the sweat from it on her long coat and plopped it gently into his hand.  “There’s no safety on my Little Lady, so be careful with her.”  
  
“Shit, woman!” he exclaimed, examining the gold firearm in his palm.  It was tiny- the barrel no longer than his ring finger.  It was a very feminine weapon with its curling vines engraved into the metal.  It had a very small iridescent pearl grip and only held two rounds.  As Braeda turned it and examined it, he remarked, “It’s heavier than it looks.”  
  
“Gold plated stainless steel throughout,” Madame grinned.  “It was my grandmother’s.  She wore it in an ankle holster during the Revolt of 1850 while my grandfather went to war.”  
  
Braeda went on to open the barrel and examine the inner workings and he snickered.  “When was the last time you cleaned and oiled it?”  
  
“I don’t know,” she replied, lighting a cigarette.  “Has to be at least six months or better.”  
  
“There’s no way this gun would fire,” he said as he shook his head.  “For one, there’s so much dirt and gunk in it that the firing pins would have a hard time striking as hard as they need to, if they even fired at all.  And secondly, I’m fairly sure these rounds have gotten wet at some point.”  He spilled the bullets out onto the bar top.  “And for what you’re carrying this for, you ought to use hollow points.”  
  
Chris grumbled something under her breath, then grumped over her shoulder that she’d be right back.  When she returned, she was carrying a small steel box and she banged it down in front of her favorite customer.  “There’s the cleaning kit.  Have fun.”  
  
Braeda raised an eyebrow at her, but took the box and got to work.  The Captain inserted a wire brush and twisted a few times, then gently knocked the muzzle on a thick flannel cloth, knocking months of dirt and grime onto the fabric. After that, he soaked a bore in copper solvent, shoved it through the barrels several times each, then pushed a dry bore through after that.  He dug around the firing pins with a tiny tool akin to a flat toothpick, then wiped it out with a sliver of flannel cloth before adding a drop of gun oil to each pin.  Finally, after soaking up the excess with another patch of flannel and spreading a single drop of oil to each barrel, he closed the thing up and wiped it down until it gleamed.  
  
“That still doesn’t solve the matter of your ammo, Madame,” he grinned as he closed the kit and handed back the small pistol.  
  
“Hollow points, huh?” she asked as she admired his thorough cleaning job.  
  
“You only have two rounds, you have to get the most damage you can out of your shots.  A hollow point will explode on entry,” Braeda said as he munched on some pretzels.  “Makes a bigger wound and causes a more serious injury.  A regular shot could miss anything vital and the wound itself wouldn’t be enough to seriously hurt someone.”  He paused.  “You’ve been carrying that a long time and you still don’t know any better?”  
  
“Don’t start,” she said as she waggled her finger in his face.  “I get enough of that from Roy-boy.”  
  
He reached into his pocket for his keys.  “I think I might have some in the glove box, come to think of it.  Havoc’s always leaving extra shit around.”  He laid a twenty Cenz bill on the bar, then went out the door.  
  
The car was a hunk of junk, banged up and had rust starting on the bumper.  But she ran like a striped ape and could stop on a dime.  Braeda walked toward it and unlocked the door, then unlocked the glove box.  Inside was a treasure trove of random things- a partially crushed half-pack of cigarettes, several prophylactic tins (some opened and empty), a flask that sounded empty upon inspection, some breath mints, a backup pistol, and a box of at least six different calibers of ammunition.  
  
There were some 12 gauge shells, a bunch of .30 rifle rounds from the last time he and Havoc had gone to the range, some .45s some .38s, and then he found three .22s, all hollow points.  “Bingo,” he muttered as he cleaned up the passenger seat.  He checked one more time to be sure there was nothing else he thought she might need before locking the compartment again.  
  
When he returned, he smiled at the woman behind the bar.  He held his hand out to Madame Christmas and she accepted his little gift.  
  
“Congratulations, you’re lethal once again,” he remarked as he dropped two hollow point .22 bullets into her open palm.  
  
“I’m much obliged, Captain, thank you,” she grinned as she loaded her ‘Little Lady’.  Making sure she pointed the barrel out from her body, she tucked it back inside her dress.  
  
“Much obliged, eh?” he asked, a smirk on his face.  “How much extra time did my little favor buy me?”  
  
She grinned.  “I guess that’ll earn ya an extra fifteen minutes.”  
  
“A lot can happen in fifteen minutes,” he murmured.  “Especially if I get started on working you up now…”  
  
Chris Mustang laughed hard and loud.  “Nobody’s ever made me beg, if that’s what you’re hoping for!”  
  
He caught her eye and gave her his most smoldering look.  Her laughter subsided and he purred, “Challenge accepted, Madame.”  Braeda stood up.  “I think I’m ready to go upstairs.”  
  
He fought a grin when she seemed a little surprised at his request.  _‘Oh yes,’_ he thought.  _‘She’ll be begging soon enough.’_  
  
Fifteen minutes later, she was husking his name and tugging at his hair, insisting that he come on already and quit teasing her.  Not long after that, she was pleading loud enough they heard her downstairs and he finally indulged her.  
  
“Remind me to clean your gun more often,” he grunted as he slipped inside.


	30. Holier Than Thou

**Title** : Holier Than Thou  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 1,183  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Character(s)** : Madame Christmas, Braeda, OCs  
 **Summary** : Madame knows just how to deal with peddlers of religion…  
 **Warnings** : I don’t think this is offensive, but if you’re a very religious person you might.  It’s never my intention to hurt other people’s feelings though. *hugs everyone*  
 **Author's Notes** : When I practiced Satanism, I had a great time proving my sins were actually virtues.  I think Madame would do this too.  Thanks for the quick beta, [](http://missyquill.livejournal.com/profile)[**missyquill**](http://missyquill.livejournal.com/)!  
 **Prompt:** Religious faith

 

 

She didn’t need religion.  She had a brain, an imagination, cunning, two hands to serve her and two feet to carry her (and certain parts of her anatomy to make money for her when she needed it, although since marrying she didn’t use them for that reason anymore).  So when a wide eyed priestess came into her bar handing out pamphlets that spoke of God, faith, and salvation, Chris tossed them all in the garbage and told her that unless she was planning on buying a drink or room she needed to leave.

The young woman tugged her white and blue vestments tighter around her body, balking at the idea.  “I would _never_ partake of the _sins_ you provide!  How can you sleep at night knowing you cater to drunks and perverts?  You should offer them coffee and tea and an _empty_ bed-”

“I don’t need some high and mighty, green-on-the-vine maiden to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do with my own establishment!” Madame barked loud enough to cause the girl to jump back in fear.  Her purple polish tipped fingers pointed her cigarette at said high and mighty girl as she continued, “Now get the hell out of my bar before I decide to strip you down to your knickers and put you to better use upstairs!”

The priestess gasped and made the sign of the holy salutation over her bosom, then began stuttering a prayer as she stumbled for the door.  For good measure, Chris threw a glass tumbler at the priestess’ head, but it hit the door jamb and scattered shards of glass onto the girl’s cotton veil.  She shrieked as she slammed the door behind her, and Madame grabbed the broom and dust pan as Braeda emerged from her office and watched.

“What happened?” he asked worriedly.

Chris began to clean up the mess with a small grin toward her husband.  “Just had to throw someone out.  Nothing to worry about.”  She handed him the dustpan and he bent over as she swept the glass into it.  She watched as he looked into the trashcan and saw the pamphlets in the bottom, then emptied the glass into it and put the broom and all away.

“I’m surprised you didn’t do more than throw a glass at her,” he said as Chris poured herself a shot.

The Madame’s face suddenly lit up.  She smiled brightly at her husband, “I just had a great idea.  Quite possibly the best idea I’ve had in a while!”  She grabbed a napkin and asked for Braeda’s pen, and then she wrote down her grand scheme.

*******

The temple was quiet, and Helena was kneeling in prayer.  The vigil lights were glowing on either side of the altar and the young priestess had just lit one for the heavy madam she met the day before.  Her voice whispered prayers to her deities to save the woman from eternal damnation and for her to somehow find her way back to God… and that’s when Chris, Vanessa, India, Jerrica, Braeda, and several of their regular customers burst through the sanctuary doors.

Helena looked up in shock.  Had her prayers been heard?  “Madame Christmas?” she asked, rising to her feet.  “I’m so glad you’ve had a change of heart!”

Chris held her hand up.  “Forgive me, but nothing’s changed.”

Helena slumped, then shouted, “Then remove yourself from this holy place, you temptress!”

“Oh no, ya don’t,” Chris interjected.  “I had to listen to your spiel, now you get to listen to mine.”  She sat elegantly down in the pews and lit a cigarette.

“You foul creature!” Helena hissed, her hand waving the smoke out of her face.

“I’m not gonna say a word, I’m gonna let my patrons speak for me,” she said, motioning for the men and women she’d brought with her to give their testimonials.  The young priestess listened, infuriated but trying to be patient.  Each person’s story was worse than the last.  A man who drank at her establishment every night, simply to make it through the pain of having to go home to an empty house after having lost his entire family in a fire.  Another man who had been maimed in a school yard fight and had a serious genital injury and was too ashamed of his body to share it properly with a wife.  A woman who had been brutally beaten nearly to death by her father and left in an alley, had been rescued by the Madame and now had a family of ‘sisters’ and money of her own (Jerrica). 

“We all used to believe, girl.  But when you go through the shit we have, you realize religious faith is just as fake as smoke and mirrors at the carnival,” Madame said gently.  “You came to my bar trying to convert me.  Now I’ve come to your temple trying to convert you.  I don’t have any fancy little folded paper advertisements and I don’t have a god for you to worship or prayers for you to say.  All I know is, what I do saves people too.”

Helena held the old woman’s eyes and found her voice at last.  “While I do not agree with the things that go on at that bar, I cannot deny that you are… saving others from heartache and sorrow.”

Chris smirked.  “Child, I can save you too, if you wanted saving.”  Helena shook her head and the Madame rose with Braeda’s help.  “You shouldn’t judge others, especially when you don’t know the whole story.  After all, the only one who can judge anyone is your God right?  I guess that means _you_ have sinned… doesn’t it?”

Helena held her breath a moment.  That’s right…  Didn’t the sacred scrolls say, ‘Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone’?  She clasped her hands over her heart, embarrassed and ashamed of herself.  She looked up and slowly stuck her hand out to her rival.  “I’ve made a grievous error in my treatment of you and of others.  Please forgive me.”

Chris shook her hand and she replied, “Don’t worry, honey.  You weren’t taught any better, and probably because _they_ don’t know any better.”  She called out to her wayward flock and they all began to hustle out of the temple, some cracking jokes about their surprise that the ceiling hadn’t fallen in on them.  Chris lingered behind a moment and said quietly, “Now that we have an understanding, you’re welcome to come back any time.”

“I will.  And I am truly sorry,” Helena murmured with her head bowed.  She watched the Madame’s stiletto heels walk away and she turned back to the altar.  She gazed up at the Holy Vision and whispered, “Why?”  Why had these people, who were born innocent, suffered so badly?  Jerrica’s story haunted her the most.  How could a child be so guilty that she would need to be beaten so badly?  And by her father’s hand no less?  “How could you do that?”  When the icon didn’t answer, she turned and walked away to her room at the back of the temple, her faith rocked to its foundations.


	31. Body Shots

**Title** : Body Shots  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 2,798  
 **Rating** : NC17  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Chris  
 **Summary** : PWP- I’m playing in my own headcanon, and wanted porn from before they are married but after he’s no longer paying her for it.  Madame gets drunk and spends the night at Braeda’s for the first time.  
 **Warnings** : fat people sex (that’s a good warning, right?)  
 **Author's Notes:** Big thanks to [](http://cornerofmadness.livejournal.com/profile)[**cornerofmadness**](http://cornerofmadness.livejournal.com/) for the beta!  Also, this is part of my [Whatever it Takes](../../../series/21022) universe, a series that chronicles their relationship from the first time he rents her out at the brothel to their marriage to after she passes on.

 

Despite her scotch habit, the Mad Madame rarely ever got drunk.  She drank to get tipsy, to feel a buzz that only dulled her senses and made everything feel lighter than it was, and maybe to keep her from remembering how old she was and how young _he_ was.  
  
But tonight, she was soused.  And when she was this far gone, the only thing she wanted to do was hump something- anything- like a dog in heat.  Luckily for her, since meeting Braeda, and subsequently _dating_ him (no longer was he paying her to sleep with him), she was able to abandon her myriad of electrical toys and take her lover to bed instead.  
  
She begged him the whole way to his apartment to let her suck him dry as he drove, but he got so flustered he nearly took out a fire hydrant.  He compromised by fingering her instead.  It didn’t take much to set her off (she was so worked up by the time they left the bar that she almost came immediately after he began his twiddling).  She crested once more after that, and Braeda voiced his relief that she had the presence of mind to hike her dress up in the back.  Otherwise, she would have had a large wet spot underneath her bottom when she got out of the car, which instead was puddled on the seat and wiped up with the panties she pulled off when their ride to his apartment began.  
  
Chris grabbed Braeda’s face after she managed to stop wobbling on her spiky heels, and kissed him like a desperate teenager.  She tried to grab his bulge just to satisfy her own desire to touch it, but he refused her advances.  
  
“Not outside, dammit,” he hissed, though he was red faced and his eyes had grown darker.  “Let’s get in the door first, ‘kay?”  
  
“Then what in the hell are we standing out here for?” whined Chris as she looped her arms around his neck.  
  
He nuzzled her cheek with a groan. Then whispered in her ear, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll feel it tomorrow…”  
  
She chuckled.  “I sure hope so, ‘cause the hangover’s gonna be a bitch.”  
  
He took her hand and they walked as fast as she could manage to his patio gate, then a few steps further to the back door.  Finally, after wriggling the key in the lock, he flung the door open and tugged her quickly inside.  Their mouths met again, and as they kissed their hands wandered all over each other’s bodies, as if they simply couldn’t touch one another enough.  
  
Chris pushed him to sit on the couch, and once seated, she fell to her knees in front of him.  She’d been unbuttoning and unzipping men for years, and thankfully her inebriated state didn’t keep her unsteady hands from remembering how to do it.  Braeda’s cock was already waiting for her, at full attention and throbbing.  He whined when she wrapped her painted lips around him and took his entire length down her throat.  
  
“Damn, woman,” he groaned as his hand landed gently on her head.  
  
“I’ve wanted to do this all night,” she panted, giving him a few strokes before swallowing him down once more.  He wasn’t the biggest she’d ever had, probably no more than six inches, but he was thick and knew how to use it.  And have mercy, did the boy know how to use it.  The two of them had been having sex together for months now, and all but one time Braeda took the lead.  But not tonight.  
  
His dick popped free from her mouth and she began to caress his sack instead.  Her fingers smoothed down behind his balls, pressed upwards, and began to move slowly back and forth.  That was when Braeda gasped her name his back arched.  
  
“What the fuck is that!?” he cried, his body trembling.  “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop!”  
  
She stroked his length faster, tightening her grip ever so slightly.  “That’s what your prostate’s for, honey…” she cooed.  “That’s your magic special spot that makes you come gallons and gallons!”  Chris gave a lick and a kiss to his balls before capturing his tip again, and moments later she felt Braeda’s hands on either side of her face and he was pumping in and out of her mouth helplessly, filling her mouth with salty warmth that she swallowed like a greedy pup.  
  
Her lover was gasping for breath and shaking, and when she looked up at him, his eyes were screwed shut.  “Y’alright?” she asked, smirking.  
  
A little grin played on his lips.  “You never cease to amaze me,” he said breathlessly.  “I can’t even think of a word to describe that.”  
  
She crawled up from the floor, then awkwardly unzipped the back of her dress and stepped out of it.  After that, she straddled his lap and kissed him, and his arms wrapped around her.  
  
When they parted, he said, “I hope you’re not expecting anything for a little bit.  There’s no way I could ever recover from something like that so fast.”  
  
“I know exactly how long it takes you to recover,” she purred as she nuzzled her cheek against his furry chin.  “I can wait for it.”  
  
“You sure?” he replied with a chuckle.  “Before we left it seemed like you were gonna rape me!”  
  
“There’s a satisfaction in knowing I can get you off better than anyone. Trust me, I’ll be okay for another forty-five minutes or so.”  She closed her eyes as his hands squeezed at her ass and tugged her closer.   
  
“Doesn’t mean you have to suffer while you wait…  Why don’t we make ourselves comfortable in the bed.”  
  
Chris hummed in agreement.  “I think that’s a great idea, Braeda-Boy.”  
  
They wandered hand in hand to Braeda’s bedroom, where a heavy duty brass bed frame held a solid, firm mattress and surprisingly snuggly pillows.  The covers were soft and clean and fashionably in style (an olive green chenille bedspread with crisp white sheets was _so_ in!), and a giant three hundred gallon aquarium took up one whole side of the room.  He lit a small oil lamp, just like one she remembered from her grandmother’s house.  It filled the room with enough light to see, but dim enough to set the right mood, and it was just enough to offset the glowing purple lights of the enormous fish tank.  She was about to climb onto the bed when he stopped her by tugging on the laces to her bustier.  
  
“You’re a little overdressed,” he murmured as he pulled her back into his chest.  
  
“You’re more overdressed than I am,” she slurred as he untied the back of her lingerie.  
  
“Don’t worry, mine’s easier to take off than yours.”  He loosened the steel-boned brocade thing enough to help her pull it off over her head.   Her breasts came down from their heights to rest several inches lower, her nipples now gazing lovingly at her toes rather than the wall.  It didn’t seem to bother Braeda, however.  His fingers knew where to find them without looking or groping, and he rolled them in his fingers.  She sighed as she lay her head backwards onto his shoulder.  He kissed her cheek, “I think it’s time for a little pay back, dontcha think?”  
  
“Equivalent exchange _is_ the law of the land, you know,” she said as he trailed kisses over her jaw and down her neck.  
  
He guided her back to the bed, instructing her to get on all fours and to relax.  She watched him take off his clothes and lay them neatly on a dressing bench in the corner before he returned to stand behind her.  Chris felt as his hands smoothed over the halves of her ass and over her hips, and then she smiled into the bedspread as he slipped his fingers over her netherlips.  
  
“Let’s see if I can remember all the parts of the female anatomy,” he said thoughtfully as his fingertips traced over her femininity.  “These are the _labia majora_ …  And these beautiful pink ruffles are the _labia minora_.”  He massaged and fingered her softest skin tenderly before moving on to the top of her split.  “This is the _hood_ , and it guards the _clitoris_ , here-” he pressed and circled and Chris moaned.  
  
Braeda laughed quietly as his other hand patted her rump.  “Guess the little nubbin’s come out from its hiding place!”  
  
“Why are you giving me a biology lesson?” she whimpered as he sped his touches.  
  
“Because where else am I gonna use this info!  Now where was I- oh yes!”  He diddled harder and faster still, and finally Chris crested from his attentions and at last he slowed.  “Now then, that brings us to the best part- the _vaginal opening_ …” he muttered, “which should be right about here…”  
  
Chris gasped as two thick fingers slipped inside her body, moving slow and steady and ever deeper.  “Yes!  Finally!” she panted as he pumped her.  
  
“That only leaves one special place, the elusive Skene’s gland, or the ‘g-spot’, my lady.”  He rolled his hand and rotated his fingers so the tips were facing the bed, and then he curled them- and Chris arched into his touch.  
  
“Oh hell, right there!” she cried.  She felt his fingertips dancing _right there_ , making that ‘come hither’ motion that she and all her girls had spoken about, and she let her arms collapse so she could relax and enjoy the pure pleasure racing through her old body.  
  
But when he reached under her and mimicked his motions over her clit as well-  
  
She seized up around his fingers and _screamed_ into the mattress, her fluids coating both his hands and her belly as it rolled down from her pussy.  
  
“Aww, honey,” he sympathized.  “I’ve made a mess out of you!”  
  
Chris worked to catch her breath, but managed to respond, “Make me a mess again!”  
  
“Maybe I better clean this one up first,” he said as he pushed her gently to lie down on her stomach, and then rolled her over.  He pulled her butt toward the end of the bed, then sat in the floor as he draped her legs over his shoulders.  He licked softly at all the rivulets of salty essence he urged from her g-spot, as well as the sticky, tangy fluid that coated her folds, and then he concentrated on eating her alive.  
  
He laved at her pinkness.  He slurped and suckled.  He nibbled and flicked.  He filled her with his tongue and shook his head so his nose strummed her at the same time.  His hands were filled with her breasts and his mouth was filled with her womanhood, and Chris worried if he could even breathe.   
  
From his place between her meaty thighs, he growled, “Come for me.  I won’t fuck you if you don’t come for me…”  
  
She felt as he took her clit between his teeth, then he sucked the little nub hard while he pinched her nipples.  Chris exploded against him, crying his name and fingers threaded into his hair with a death grip.  Her legs quivered and quaked, but she held him tight to her sex, suffocating him for sure, she thought.  At last she turned him loose and begged for him to fuck her into the mattress, just as he’d promised.  
  
“You gotta move, first,” he said as he nudged her to go toward the middle of the bed.  She noticed he was hard again- right on time as she glanced at the clock.  “How do you want it?” he asked.  
  
“Slow and deep,” she answered as he climbed onto the bed.  
  
“Then roll to your side, sweetheart,” he replied as he reached into the nightstand for a rubber.  Once he was ready, he pulled her into his arms and spooned around her back.  “You ready?”  
  
“You bet,” she said as she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder.  
  
“Here we go…”  She could feel his hand at her ass, guiding himself home.  Once he was in, he leaned down and kissed her as he began to thrust at an unhurried pace, his arm under her outermost leg to hold it up and open, giving him room enough to sink as deep as he could.  
  
The position of his arm allowed his fingers to toy with her as he filled her, and every time she came, he kissed her neck and encouraged her to give him more.  She stopped counting after three orgasms and focused instead on her boyfriend’s gentle grip as he made love to her.  
  
“Is it alright…” Braeda grunted after what seemed like hours, “if I come?”  
  
Chris reached back and cupped his face.  “Of course,” she breathed.  “Whenever you’re ready, honey.”  
  
He held her impossibly tighter and pumped faster.  She squeezed her insides around him rhythmically, eventually fluttering around him again as yet another orgasm washed over her.  Then she felt him swelling inside her, heard him grit his teeth behind her, and with a final shove, she knew he’d come.  
  
He pulled his arm out from under her leg, guiding them to a normal spooning position, and for a moment Chris just relished his humid breath against the back of her sweaty neck and the feel of his wilting length still inside of her.  
  
“You’ve ruined me,” he groaned.  
  
“Ruined you?”  
  
“I’ll never be able to go back to doing this with anyone else,” he answered, kissing her ear.  
  
“Good,” she answered, her fingers combing through the fur on his forearms and her eyes wandering over this place she’d never been to before tonight.  “I’d hate to have to kill you if I caught you doing this with some other broad,” she teased, chuckling sleepily as she did so.  
  
“Will you stay the night?  You can have one of my shirts to sleep in if you want.  And I make a mean breakfast, perfect for curing hangovers.”  
  
In all her years, she’d only stayed the night with one other man, and that was because she was convinced the john’s maid was the one she needed to keep an eye on, not the john. This would be the first time she was staying with a man simply because she wanted to wake up in his arms.  
  
“I’d love to stay,” she said, and he kissed her shoulder.  “Can I clean up a little?  I don’t want to ruin the sheets.”  
  
Braeda sat up quickly.  “Of course!  The bathroom’s right across the hall, and there’s washrags and towels in the closet.”  He went to his dresser and took out a big t-shirt.  “Here, so you’ve got something to sleep in.”  
  
Chris entered the bathroom and swabbed herself clean with a warm washcloth, then washed her face and attempted to brush her teeth with toothpaste on her finger.  When she returned she found her Braeda-Boy changing the sheets.  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said as she hurried to help him with the bedspread.  
  
“Well, I’ve never had a woman stay the night before, I kinda wanted everything to be perfect.”  He turned the covers down and crawled in, extending his hand to hers.  “How do you like to sleep?  On your side or your back?”  
  
“On my left side,” she answered with a smile.  “And you?”  
  
“On my side, hugging a pillow,” he grinned.  “But if it’s alright, I’d rather hold you instead.”  
  
Chris leaned in and kissed him softly.  “I think I’d like that,” she smiled.  
  
Braeda blew out the oil lamp while she got comfortable, then turned over and gathered her up in his arms.  Chris didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the sex, or just Braeda himself that made her feel so relaxed and safe.  She was warm and snug and tranquil as sleep descended over her, and when she awoke in the morning still encircled in his arms, she couldn’t help a wide grin.   
  
Braeda stirred when she turned over to face him.  He opened his eyes slowly, then smiled and gave her a groggy sounding, “Good morning, sweetheart.”  
  
“Morning,” she grinned.  
  
“How’d you’d sleep?” he asked as he rubbed at his eyes.  
  
“Best sleep I’ve had in years.  Everything was perfect.”  She kissed him, then said, “Thank you, honey.”  
  
“You can stay every night if you want,” he replied as he brushed her hair back.  
  
Chris crowed with laughter.  “You can keep asking me, but I refuse to marry you, Braeda-Boy!  I’m breaking enough of my own rules just by _dating_ you!”  
  
To her surprise, he only chuckled.  “You haven’t eaten my cooking yet.  I’ll win you over, you just wait.”  
  
Only a scant two months later, she would eat her words- and enjoy every bite.


	32. Loose Ends

**Title** : Loose Ends  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 1,691  
 **Rating** : PG13  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Chris, OCs (regular reoccurring OC's Jerrica and India, and Jakob Heyman)  
 **Summary** : Out of the blue, Braeda gets to meet his father for the first time… and the meeting does not go well for Jakob Heyman.  
 **Warnings** : Mentions of a past underage relationship, but no specific details to trigger anyone.  I’m pro-lolicon, but Braeda is not.  Also violence.  
 **Author's Notes** : Because of the role playing I’ve been doing lately, I had to define my headcanon for Braeda a little more than when I was just writing about him.  And those new details, combined with the fact I’ve always wanted to see a confrontation between him and his father since I decided he was a bastard, this ficlet was born!  Thanks to [](http://bay115.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bay115.livejournal.com/)**bay115** as usual.  
  


  
Emerald’s was slow- unseasonably cold weather and rain coming down in buckets for three days or better.  Chris was laid up in bed, an old knee injury giving her fits because of the damp weather.  The girls wandered around, bored and chatting more than usual with the few patrons they had, and Braeda kept himself occupied with topping off the liquor bottles that lined the back wall of the bar.

The door opened, chiming the little bells that  hung over the doorway, and Jerrica greeted whoever it was that walked in with a cheerful, “Welcome to Emerald’s!  Sit anywhere you like!”  Braeda was glad for another order to be paid, but he didn’t otherwise pay any attention to the person who’d come in.

At least not until he heard a voice to his left say, “Could I get a brandy, please?”

Braeda turned to acknowledge the deep voice with a smile, when he felt his jaw tighten instead of slipping up into a natural grin.  It was like looking in a mirror- red hair (though in a longer, older style), big nose, squared jaw and steel gray eyes.

He felt all the anger in the world swirling in his chest and he shouted, “India, get those people out of here!”

She put her hand on her hip and sassed back, “Why?  They just got their-”

“GET ‘EM OUT, NOW!” he roared as the man in front of him paled at the realization of what was about to happen to him.  There was some concerned mumbling as the four diners were shuffled past the bar and out the door, but as soon as Braeda was sure they were all gone, he gave another order.

“Lock the door and call Chris.”

Jerrica made it to the office first, but he urged India to follow her as he walked around the end of the bar to confront the man who needed no introduction, though it was their first meeting.

He had _a lot_ of things he wanted to say to him, a million tears he wanted the man to choke on- tears from himself and his mother- and a hundred times or more, he’d thought about what would happen if this day ever came.

As he slowly walked toward the man, only one thought ran through his mind- ‘ _Don’t kill him.  Mom would never forgive you for murder._ ’  So he did the next best thing.

Braeda hit his father as hard as he possibly could, knocking him clean off the barstool and into the floor.  But that was not going to quell the rage inside of him that was dying to be released.  He jerked the man to his feet before punching him again, this time sending him into a table and knocking off empty water glasses, napkins and silverware into the floor.

“Please, son-”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” he bellowed.  “YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT!”

Braeda grabbed a fistful of red hair bashed the man’s head into the back of a chair.  There was a crunch and a yelp, and he watched with satisfaction as blood began to dot the floor at their feet.

“Do you even know how many times I got beat up because of you?” he growled as he slung Jakob Heyman into the nearest wall.  “Do you know how bad it stung to be called a bastard since before you were even born?  Or how hard my mother cried the day I asked what that word even meant?”

The older man spat blood and winced as he tried to stand.  “No, I don’t.  And I’m ashamed of that.  Your mother-”

“My mother was a _child_ when you knocked her up!  You broke a _fourteen year old girl’s_ heart, you son of a bitch!  And then left her with an infant!”

Jakob didn’t say anything, just looked back at him with a dazed look on his face as blood leaked from his crooked nose and lip.  Braeda couldn’t seem to get his thoughts in order, and beating him didn’t do much to settle his emotional tempest.

“How,” the other man croaked.  “How is she?  How is Ida?”

“Dead,” he spat.  “Dead and gone.  Old before her time from working herself to death to take care of me.”

His father frowned.  “She was a bright and cheerful thing.  I’m sorry-”

“She was never a _thing_!  And if you’re so sorry, where are _your_ tears?” he demanded as he grabbed his collar and yelled at him a breath away from his face.  “Why did you just leave her!?  Why did you leave _us_!?”

“I don’t know!” Jakob screamed as Braeda hit him again, this time in the stomach hard enough that he was sure he’d crushed his organs and hit the man’s spine.

“Braeda!”

He glanced up to find his wife standing in the back doorway, glaring at him.  He didn’t have to say anything- he could tell she already saw the resemblance.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill him.”

“Good.  Now get away from him.”  Her voice was calm and soothing to his agitated heart, and all he wanted to do at that moment was curl up in her arms and cry harder than he ever had in his life.

As he backed away, he noticed a gold band gleaming on his father’s left hand…

“So who’d you end up settling down with?  An older woman with money and no children?”

His father swayed on his feet, but answered anyway.  “Two daughters by her.  My wife’s a year older than what your mother would have been.”

“And you?  How old are you?” Chris asked.

“Fifty-six,” he sighed.  “And to save you from doing the math, I was twenty-five when I helped make him,” he said, gesturing weakly at Braeda.

“You sick pervert…” Braeda hissed as Chris walked closer to him.

“If you can walk out the door, you need to leave,” she said to him, giving him that look she saved for only the most revolting of the degenerates she came in contact with.  “And if you can’t walk out the door, I’m just itching to fire my pistol.”

He held her hand as they watched his father stumble across the room, broken and bloody.  He paused before he opened the door.  Turning toward them, he said quietly, “I truly am sorry about Ida.  And I didn’t run off because of you or because I didn’t love her.  I loved her terribly, but you can imagine how the both of us would have been treated had we stayed together.  I thought I was protecting her by leaving her.  You have to believe that-”

Chris jerked her derringer from her bra and aimed it at the man, the first time Braeda had ever seen her draw the little gun on anyone.

“Get out, or you can die on the doorstep.”

He opened the door.  “Your sisters’ names are Faye and Gwen.  I’ve told them about you.”

And with that, Jakob Heyman walked right back out of Braeda’s life all over again.

Chris shoved her pistol back into her dress and hollered for the girls to come clean up the mess and get the doors back open as soon as they could.  As for Braeda, he stood crying silently and staring blankly at nothing.

“C’mon honey, let’s get you cleaned up,” she murmured as she patted his cheek tenderly.

She led him to their office, sat him down in the overstuffed Queen Anne chair and closed the door.  There was a secret trigger built into the floor and she stepped on it, opening a narrow door that revealed a hidden water closet, and he heard water rushing in the small sink before she returned with a wet washcloth for his face.  Chris gently wiped at his face and asked him if he felt like talking about what had happened, and Braeda reached up and grabbed her.  He pulled her down into his lap and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“I’ve wondered my whole life about him, and now I wish I’d never laid eyes on him.”  He shook in her arms, her fingers dragging slowly through his hair.  “What could a twenty-five year old man possibly want with a fourteen year old girl?  He was nearly her age when she was born…”

“Some girls are precocious that way,” his wife replied.  “I was fifteen when I lost my virginity.”

“But a grown man…” he trailed off.  He didn’t need to elaborate on the subject.

“I won’t make excuses for him, but there’s a lot of reasons grown men do those things.  And you said yourself she was in love with him.”  She wiped at his face with washcloth again, as his tears had returned.  “If she loved him, that was probably the biggest reason he did it.”

“I look just like him,” he choked.  “I don’t want to look like him, Chris…”

She held him tight to her chest as he began to cry harder.  “Shh, you don’t look like him too much, honey.  You’ll always be my Braeda-Boy, and my Braeda-Boy is the most handsome, sweet and intelligent man I’ve ever known.”  She kissed his forehead and Braeda held her closer.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door.  He pulled his head from his wife’s bosom and wiped at his face with the wet cloth, blowing his nose into it when he finished.  “Yeah?” he called through the door.

“Everything alright?” Jerrica asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay now I think.”

“Need anything?”

“A glass of ice water, please,” he answered.  “And maybe some ice in a towel,” he chuckled as he looked down at his red, swollen knuckles.

He thanked Chris for her attention, and she brushed the comment off with a grunt.  “Next time take it outside.  Now I’ve got to offer free meals to those people in apology.  If you’re too bad for business, I’ll have to fire you.”

He grinned at her, knowing she was only kidding about firing him from the bar he helped her turn around.  “Still though, the free meals and the sore knuckles were completely worth it.”


	33. Reminders

**Title** : Reminders  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 225  
 **Rating** : G  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda  
 **Summary** : Chris’ death was something he expected.  The pain of living on afterward was not.  
 **Warnings** : None  
 **Author's Notes** : So sad.  Leave it to Madame to break my dry spell with something sad and angsty.  She’s the one that insists on these sad fics, says it’s ‘character development for Braeda’.  She can take a hike with her depressing shit lol  Big thanks to my beta [](http://bay115.livejournal.com/profile)[**bay115**](http://bay115.livejournal.com/).  
 **Prompt:** Red  
  
  
It’s been a week since her death, and Braeda’s back at work, still fighting everyday not to follow Chris into hell.  The girls assure him they’re doing alright if he needs more time.  He insists sitting at home by himself is worse, and they let him back into the office that started out at Chris’ and ended up as his.  
  
Turns out there are just as many reminders of her at their restaurant as there are at home.  A spare coat in a tiny closet like cabinet still holds her scent, as well as a hairbrush in the pocket, full of tangled black knots.  A half empty pack of cigarettes under the bar.  It’s the reminders that hurt him the most.  If she’d left him, she would have taken everything she owned with her.  This is pure torture with all her things still in the places _she_ should be.  
  
Thankfully nobody says anything when they see him emerge from the tar stained office long minutes later, eyes red and puffy.  Jerrica and India are on shift today, and they surround him in hugs when they catch his eyes watering.  
  
“It has to get easier, right?” he asks as he cries on India’s shoulder.  
  
But he already knows this pain is going to be around for a long time, and his tears might never dry completely.


	34. The First of Many

**Title:** The First of Many  
 **Author/Artist:** Sonja Jade  
 **Fandom:** Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood/manga-verse  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Braeda, Chris, OC’s  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters within this story based on the series written by Hiromu Arakawa  
 **Summary/Teaser:** “Believe me, she would be madder than a wet cat if she knew we were sitting here crying instead of enjoying ourselves.”  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Word Count:** 2,492  
 **Warning:** Angsty and sad.  
 **Author’s Note:** If you’ve never read any of my Braeda/Chris fan fics, let me catch you up- they get married, he takes her last name, they are married almost 13 years when she dies from a heart attack, leaving behind her husband, her ‘son’ and daughter-in-law, and their 3 children, Lily, Lucy, and Levi.  
  
  
When Roy’s maid opened the door, she gave him a sad little smile.  
  
“Captain Mustang, please come in,” she said warmly, stepping aside so he could enter the warm house.  “Führer and Mrs. Mustang are with the children in the den.  Can I take your coat, sir?”  
  
He smiled.  “Always so proper, Nancy.  You can just call me Braeda like everyone else, I’ve told you that.”  He set the brightly wrapped packages on the small console table by the door as he shrugged out of his long coat.  
  
“I know.  It just feels… rude, to address you so informally.”  She took the coat and draped it across her arm.  “If you’ll give me a moment I can help you with those-”  
  
“I think I can handle it,” he chuckled.  “I’m pretty sure I won’t be troubled by a few Yule gifts.”  He watched as that melancholy expression returned to her face.  “What’s wrong?”  
  
Her eyes flashed with panic and she quickly averted her gaze.  “N-nothing, sir!  Just…  Are you sure you’re alright?”  Her voice lowered.  “Pardon me, I’m just concerned-”  
  
“Chris wouldn’t want me to stay home and mope,” he answered, knowing without asking what Nancy was referring to.  It would be their first Yule without his firecracker wife, the first of many.  Certainly the holidays were rough without her smoky voice butchering the Yule carols (on purpose, she could actually sing quite lovely when she wanted), making crude jokes about the Holly King and his old goat, and teaching the children how to discern their presents by shaking them.  
  
Nancy wrung her hands.  “I’m sorry.  We all miss her, she was a wonderful lady.”  
  
“I know.  But let’s honor her memory by celebrating in her name this year, and not letting our sadness kill our spirits.”  He patted her arm and smiled.  “I’m alright, really.  Can’t you just hear her if I’d stayed home with a bottle of rum today?  She’d cuff me on the back of my head and practically kick my ass all the way to the car!”  He put his hands on his hips and stood like she would have, imitating her voice. “You sit here and drink and I’ll haunt you for _two_ lifetimes!  Go see our babies and smile like you mean it!  Give them their presents and have a good time!”  They both laughed quietly and Braeda picked up the stack of presents from the table.  “That’s what she’d say, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”  
  
“If you need anything, please let me know, Captain.  Rum included.”  
  
“You got it.”  
  
He made his way through the big house (not quite a mansion, certainly not an average sized home either) until he found his family gathered around a large decorated tree, and looking as dismal as Nancy must’ve expected him to.  
  
“Is this the Bah Humbug party?  I must be in the wrong house!” he exclaimed as he realized Lily was wiping at her eyes.  
  
“Papaw!” Lucy and Lily whimpered as they ran to him.  Roy rose from his chair and greeted him with a handshake and a pat to the shoulder as Riza took the gifts from him and scattered them neatly under the tree, warning Levi to leave them alone.  
  
Lily started crying harder and Braeda wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.  “Now, now.  There’s no need for all these tears, sweetie.”  
  
The thirteen year old couldn’t even respond to him for sobbing.  Lucy looked up at him, her dark brown eyes shimmering, too.  “She’s really upset that Mamaw won’t be here this year.”  
  
Braeda sighed and patted Lucy’s cheek.  “Honey, we’re all sad that Mamaw won’t be here.  But believe me, she would be madder than a wet cat if she knew we were sitting here crying instead of enjoying ourselves.”  
  
Roy chuckled.  “That’s true.  She always said the best way to remember her was by having a great time as if she were just in the next room.”  
  
Lily sniffled and accepted the tissues her mother handed her.  She wiped at her eyes and blew her nose, then said in a wavering voice, “I can’t help it, though, Dad!  It just doesn’t feel right without her here!”  
  
Braeda took his granddaughter’s hand, saying, “Why don’t you take a little walk with me.”  He asked Nancy to bring up their coats and they walked out into the garden, half covered in snow.  He began to speak as they ambled amid the dark green bushes and trimmed down flowers.  
  
“Do you remember last Yule?”  
  
“Of course I do,” Lily grumbled.  “We laughed and laughed because Lucy singed her eyebrows off.”  
  
Braeda laughed at the memory of his youngest granddaughter leaning too closely over a decorative candle holder and burning her eyebrows clean away.  Chris had cackled too, her raspy voice cheerful even when it was weak.  “Man, we had a good time.  Levi tried to eat the paper on the presents, your dad was a little tipsy and set a stocking on fire instead of the Yule log-”  
  
Lucy giggled.  “And Mama almost shot him!”  
  
“And she probably would have if he hadn’t been holding poor Lucy in his lap!”  They both laughed at the mishap filled evening, until Braeda squeezed her hand.  “You know Mamaw was sick then, didn’t you?”  
  
Chris had somehow known it would be the last Yule with her family.  She bought double the presents, sang louder than she ever had, held Levi nearly the whole time and insisted on lots and lots of photographs.  Lily stopped them in the garden and nodded.  
  
“She didn’t seem like herself then.  Like she was trying too hard or something.”  
  
He was so proud of her.  She was smart, could read people the way Chris could read them, and even though she sensed something was wrong, she went along with it. “Honey, even though she was there, Mamaw wasn’t really with us _last_ year.  If she’d been herself, she wouldn’t have acted so weird, don’t you think?”  
  
She didn’t say anything, just looked down at her feet.  He patted her back and made her walk with him again.  “This Yule is definitely different without her here.  But we’ll get through it and it will get easier.  It still bothers me when I wake up and she’s not there with me in the morning, or there to talk to at night before I go to bed.  And I’ve been doing it every day now for months and it hasn’t gotten much better.  But every morning, I get up and keep moving forward.  And there will come a day eventually that I’ll be able to get up and it not make me want to cry.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Papaw,” she murmured.  “Here I am wailing and you must be suffering so much more than me.”  
  
“It’s okay, sweetie.  We all miss her, and you were very close to her.  It’s only natural to mourn those you miss.”  He sighed and paused to look up at the nearly full moon.  “Sometimes I tell myself that she didn’t really die, she just went to the moon to wait for me until I caught up to her in age, and when I catch up to her she’ll come back.  I know it’s a lie, but sometimes it makes me feel a lot better.”  He laughed, “Sometimes I pretend she has a great big telescope and is watching us from up there!”  
  
Lily hugged him tightly and he felt a tear slip down his cheek.  “You remind me so much of her, Lily…  How she must’ve been when she was a child.  Believe me, I _know_ it’s hard to move on without her.  But she would be pissed if we didn’t live on.”  
  
“Okay,” she sniffed.  
  
He wiped at his eyes and sniffled himself, then breathed a sigh of relief.  “Alright, tears all out of the way now?  Squeeze your eyes shut for me!”  He watched as she did so, encouraging her to squeeze all her tears out.  He pulled a handkerchief from a hidden pocket and told her blow her nose, then he asked her to take a deep breath.  
  
“It’s okay to miss her.  It’s okay to wish she were here.  It’s not okay to stop having fun on Yule just because she isn’t, alright?  Levi hasn’t even met the Holly King yet, you and Lucy gotta keep the magic alive for him!”  
  
That got a real smile out of her and she agreed.  “Is Uncle Jean coming tonight to play him or someone else?”  
  
Braeda scratched his chin in thought.  “You know, I’m not sure…  Might be the _real_ Holly King that shows up tonight, since this is a special Yule for us.”  
  
She playfully smacked his arm, grinning.  “Please, the Holly King’s about as real as Vanessa’s tits.”  
  
Braeda snorted in the cold night air, startling some birds from a nearby bush.  “You are _definitely_ of your grandmother’s line!  But if the Holly King hears you saying that kind of stuff, it’s a naughty rock for you and presents for your brother and sister!”  
  
They entered the house by the kitchen, stopping to steal a fresh cookie and a taste of stuffing before joining the rest of the family.  Nancy brought him an iced tumbler of rum and he watched as the kids shook different boxes, mentally cataloging different bumps and thuds in their present investigations.  
  
There was a sunny feast of broiled chicken, mashed potatoes, carrots and corn.  There was caroling afterward as they waited for the Holly King’s arrival.  There was paper shredding and box opening and squeals of delight as presents were opened.  And eventually there were yawns from the little ones, and Lily offered to help put them to bed- likely so she could go to bed soon after.  He enjoyed a drink with Roy and Riza after that, a shot of scotch in Chris’ honor, then he retrieved his coat and went home.  
  
The house was dark and chilly when he got back.  He checked the thermostat and felt the radiator in the hall to be sure it was all working, then climbed the stairs to the bedroom.  He kicked his shoes off by the closet, pulled his sweater over his head and hung it on the doorknob, then shrugged out of his suspenders as he sat down on the bed.  
  
Then he buried his face in his hands and let his sobs wrack his body.  She’d been gone for almost eight months now, and it shouldn’t still hurt this bad, he reasoned.  He’d gotten used to buying food for one, doing laundry for one, barely doing any housecleaning because it was just him in that big house by himself.  He’d gotten accustomed to finding her half of the bed never unmade, to her vanity always being neat and clean, though it was usually always a mess of different make ups and jewelry.  So why on this night did it bother him more than ever that she was gone?  Was it because he saw Lily’s tears and that started all this?  
  
He leaned across the bed and reached into her nightstand, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting it just for the sake of smelling something that reminded him of her presence.  Once the thing was surely lit and smoking in the ashtray, he rose and spritzed some of her perfume into the air, then opened the curtains and stared up at the moon.  
  
“Can you see how much you’re missed up there, sweetheart?”  He wished she was really on the moon.  He’d find a way to get up there to her and bring her back home if that were the case.  He made a fist and pounded the window frame once, shaking the pictures on the wall.  He chuckled, turned and reached for the cigarette and took a drag.  He cracked the window and sat down in her vanity chair, still looking up at the silver white disk shining down into the bedroom.  
  
“If you’re on the moon, then let’s spend the longest night of the year together, staring at one another from far, far away.”  
  
Eventually, he abandoned the chair for the bed, taking his pillow and putting at the footboard and bathing in the moonlight until he fell asleep somewhere around three in the morning.  When he woke just before noon, he came slowly down the stairs to make himself some coffee and found an envelope next to the percolator- addressed to him in his wife’s scratchy handwriting.  He scrambled to open it.  
  
 _To my dear Braeda Boy,_  
  
 _See?  That wasn’t so hard was it?  You made it, you’re still alive, and hopefully you didn’t cry as much as you thought you would have.  Guess what?_  
  
 _Next year will be even easier._  
  
 _Keep sucking wind, honey.  Make sure that the kids do too, especially Lily, you know she was always our sensitive girl.  Now get yourself some breakfast and tell me all about what the kids got for Yule.  You might not know it, but I’m always listening, especially to you._  
  
 _I love you with all my heart and soul.  Don’t give up, and keep waking up every morning for me.  If you don’t- I KNOW WHERE TO FIND YOU._  
  
 _Your Sweetheart,_  
 _Chris_  
  
He laughed through his tears, imagining her trying to give her most intimidating scowl as she reminded him she could haunt him now.  He wiped at his eyes as he got the coffee ready and set it to brew, not even questioning where the note came from or how she had the insight to write it before hand.  He cleared his throat.  “Well,” he began as he pulled bread out to make some toast, “Levi insisted on opening everyone’s gifts, and then when Havoc showed up as the Holly King, he ran and hid under Riza’s chair!”  
  
As he pulled out some sausages and put them into the frying pan, going on about the really neat train set Levi got, on the other side of the gate sat an old woman, her eyes closed and tears streaming down her face.  
  
The white being there spoke in its strange voice, “You’ve eased his pain with that little trick.  You’re lucky you had such wonderful friends to help you out from beyond the grave.”  
  
Chris sniffled.  “I chose only the best for my friends.  Imagine what _he_ means to me.”  
  
The being sighed.  “You can’t linger here forever.  You’re going to have to move on and let your soul rest.”  
  
“Not until I’m sure he’s gonna be alright.”  She opened her eyes and listened closely to the words he said to her.  “Not a moment before.”  
  
“Suit yourself,” the thing shrugged.  “Might be a while yet.”  
  
“I’ve got plenty of time.”  She smiled and went back to listening to her husband’s beautiful voice, grinning at his tale about Lily’s reaction to the book he bought her, hoping that he’d keep talking for hours.


	35. Don't Be a Sap

**Title** : Don’t Be a Sap  
 **Author** : Sonja Jade  
 **Series** : Brotherhood  
 **Word Count** : 851  
 **Rating** : M  
 **Character(s)** : Braeda/Chris  
 **Summary** : Chris accuses Braeda of being a hopeless romantic, but secretly thinks maybe she’s worse than him.  
 **Warnings** : Mentions of Braeda losing his ‘other virginity’…  Sexy times, not too graphic though.  
 **Author's Notes** : C’mon, I’m the queen of oddball pairings XD  Thanks to [](http://bay115.livejournal.com/profile)[**bay115**](http://bay115.livejournal.com/) for the beta!  
 **Prompt:** Strange pairings  
  
  
  
Chris’ hair was a mess by the time she rolled off of Braeda, flopping to lie beside him in their shared bed.  They were both panting and sweating and delirious with spent passion.  Braeda groped around for her hand and then squeezed her fingers when he found it.  
  
“That was incredible,” he breathed.  
  
Chris caught sight of a string of freshly used anal beads gleaming in the floor, flung at the moment of climax, an indirect streetlight bathing them in a yellow glow.  She smirked at them as she fished a cigarette out of her pack.  “Only the best for my Braeda-boy,” she answered.  
  
“Lemme have one of those,” he asked weakly.  
  
“Since when do _you_ smoke?” she asked, handing him one of her ‘cancer sticks’.  She even lit it for him as he reclined on his pillow.  “Aren’t you the one who’s trying to get me and Jean to quit?”  
  
He took a deep drag and blew it out without a cough.  “I do it sometimes.  Usually only when I’m drinking hard liquor, but nicotine goes well with great sex, too.”  He stuck the thing between his lips and pulled her into his big arms.  “Besides, I think we both know neither you nor Havo are gonna quit anytime soon.”  
  
She rolled away from him long enough to grab her ashtray off the nightstand and put it on his chest.  After that, they just lay together in the dark, holding each other and enjoying the quiet breeze coming through the open window.  
  
Braeda broke their amicable silence.  “I love you, y’know.”  
  
She grinned against his chest.  “Don’t get all sappy on me, alright?  Don’t ruin the loss of your ‘other virginity’ with sap.”  
  
“Hey, I’m not sappy!” he said as he stubbed out his cigarette.  “I just… I just want you to know that it’s not just the sex that keeps me by your side.”  
  
“Well it certainly ain’t my good looks,” she chortled, smoke coming from her nose like a Xingese dragon.  
  
“It’s everything, you old bat,” he teased.  “Looks included, I’ve never wanted to be with a woman as much as I’ve wanted to be with you.”  
  
“Careful, that sounds pretty syrupy,” she warned, waggling her finger in the light of the streetlamp.  
  
“Fuck you,” he grumbled, nuzzling into her neck as she passed the ashtray back to her nightstand.  “I can’t help it.”  
  
She sighed dramatically and patted his shoulder.  “If it means anything to ya honey, I’ve been all on my own since I was seventeen.  In all that time, all those years?  I never had anybody.  No companions, no consorts, no _boyfriends_ …  You’re the only one.  I might’ve slept with nearly every man and half the women in this country, but not one of them did I ever call ‘lover’.  I’m fifty eight now, and you’re the only _boyfriend_ I’ve ever had.”  She kissed his temple and smiled as her hand carded through his auburn hair.  “And I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”  
  
A low whimper erupted from him and she touched his shoulder, now worried that something was wrong.  “What’s the matter?  Butt sore?”  
  
“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he replied with a sniffle.  
  
“Oh come on, you hopeless romantic!” she crowed as she sat up and threw her pillow playfully at his head.  “I’m getting some water, you need anything while I’m up?”  
  
He threw the pillow at her and she side stepped it, picked it up and threw it back at him again.  Then he laughed and said quietly, “Maybe some petroleum jelly for my asshole!”  
  
She bent down and whispered in his ear, “Want me to kiss it, make it better?”  
  
He groaned and grabbed her hand, bringing it down to where he was slowly stiffening.  “No, but if you keep talking like that, you’re gonna have to climb back up here!”  
  
Chris wormed away from him, chuckling.  “Nuh-uh!  I did all the work last time, it’s your turn if we go for seconds!”  At his whining about being worn out, she reminded him that equivalent exchange was the law of the land.  
  
“Fine!” he relented at last, getting out of bed.  “But this time we’re doing it in the living room.  I wanna bend you over the arm of the couch.”  
  
As Braeda guided her from the bedroom, she thought on all the reasons they shouldn’t be together.  She was too old and he was too young, she was out of shape and he was fit as a fiddle, she was civilian and he was military, she’d been a whore and he’d been raised religious…  Complete opposites in so many different ways.  But when he tenderly kissed her before making love to her, when he’d cook breakfast for her in the morning, when he’d rub her aching feet at night and make up songs to cheer her up on bad days…  She knew they belonged together, no matter how strange it was that they’d found each other.  
  
She realized then _why_ he was such a sap, and thought she might be worse about it than him.


	36. Leave 'Em Laughin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris’ last words leave everyone choked up- with laughter.

It was a lovely summer morning.  The sky was a pristine pale blue, cloudless, and sunshine splashed down on the grass, making pools of sparkling emerald and dark, deep green.  Birds were singing, a butterfly fluttered among the stone markers, and a procession of people slowly moved from where a hearse sat at the cemetery gates to a freshly dug hole in the ground.  
  
Six men carried a wicker coffin behind an officiator on loan from the funeral home.  The outside had been decorated with a garland of gardenias and greenery, the top burdened with mounds of lilies, roses, carnations, peonies and more of the gardenias.  They stopped at the graveside and sat the coffin down, waiting for the rest of the mourners to catch up before lowering it into the earth.  
  
The officiator took a folded piece of paper from the pocket on the inside of his suit coat and cleared his throat.  
  
“Before her passing, Chris left us her final words that she wanted to share with all of her family and friends.”  He put on his reading glasses as a cardinal chirped in the distance.  “So, I’ve kicked the proverbial bucket at last, huh?”  He adjusted his glasses as those around the grave collectively chuckled unexpectedly.  
  
He continued, reading, “I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later.  I never exercised a day in my life and the only things I really enjoyed doing with any kind of enthusiasm was smoking, drinking and…”  The man’s face turned beet red and he choked on the word.  
  
Thankfully one of those gathered around said it for him, calling out loudly, “Fucking!”  
  
He nodded, stammering, “Y-yes. That.”  Coughing into his hand as the others tittered and sniffled, he picked up where he left off.  
  
“I guess you’re looking for some kind of profound and wise last words, something to define my life and death into one memorable phrase that you can remember forever.  But I am- or was- so much more than a handful of words.  I was a mother to some, a lover to many, a friend to most.  I could be soft and warm as a cat on a rainy day, or as cold and merciless as a chilling winter wind.  With a flick of my pen and a few cenz I could be a killer or a savior and you would never know which or why.  So don’t try to contain my life in a symbolic quote- and don’t live your lives that way, either.  Be everything, do everything, see everything, and don’t give a rat’s ass about anyone’s opinion on what you do.  You want to remember me?  Then _live_.  Whatever pleasant memories of me you have, hold them in your heart, hold them in your minds as you go skinny dipping or sky diving or eating those spicy peppers from Xing for the first time.  Please don’t waste your time standing at this marker, dropping your flowers and tears all over my body.  Flowers die, too.  So go and live, and take me with you in your heart.”  
  
The man at the graveside scanned the page, paused, and grinned before reading the last part.  “But if you truly want my _very last_ words, here they are: I’m finally dead sexy!”  
  
Roy wiped his eyes as he laughed.  Everyone did.  The pallbearers took up the coffin and lowered her down, and as the gravediggers came up to bury her, Braeda asked if he could stand in for one of them and do it.  Roy was right behind him, pitching in as well, and more friends joined him until all of those covering her up were loved ones who cared deeply about her.  They sang a bawdy tune she liked as they worked, and once she was completely covered, the shovels were given back to the workers there, Roy and Braeda sharing a hug.  
  
“That’s our girl,” Roy said as he held his good friend and uncle through marriage.  “Right as always.”  
  
“Yeah,” Braeda sniffled, though he was smiling when he pulled away from Roy.  “So.  What do we do now?”  
  
Roy reached down to pick up his middle daughter as his oldest wrapped her arms around Braeda.  “We live.  But first, we’ll have a few drinks in her honor.”


	37. The Birds and the Bees and the Flowers and the Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris takes Lily to be fitted for her first real bra, and ends up giving her The Talk- and she leaves nothing unsaid.

**Title:** The Birds and the Bees and the Flowers and the Trees  
 **Author:** Sonja Jade  
 **Series:** Brotherhood  
 **Word Count:** 4,456  
 **Rating:** T-M, somewhere in the middle, nothing graphic  
 **Characters:** Braeda/Chris, Roy’s oldest daughter Lily, OCs  
 **Summary:** Chris takes Lily to be fitted for her first real bra, and ends up giving her The Talk- and she leaves _nothing_ unsaid.  
 **Warnings:** Mentions of a past sexual abusive father and underage sex.  
 **Author’s Notes:** Part of my Whatever it Takes universe.  
  


It didn’t matter that Lily was eleven going on twelve, she still held her Mamaw’s hand just like she did when she was two.  Chris loved spending time with both Lily and Lucy, but she and Lily were very close.  Today, Chris was taking Lily to be fitted for her first real bra.  Over the past winter, what had begun as barely more than mosquito bites had grown into something that needed restraining, and Chris knew the best lingerie store in town.

She and her granddaughter strolled leisurely down the street, bright and cheerful after winter’s long gray hold.  A store front shone with a scene of pastoral fields painted on a backdrop while mechanical dolls danced and laughed with a rabbit dressed in a jacket and bow tie.  They slowed a bit and watched the machines whir around gaily, then continued on their trek.  Bianca’s Boutique was only a couple blocks away now.

Lily looked up at her, her dark brown eyes reminding her so much of the woman she’d been named after, Roy’s mother Liling.  She asked quietly, “Mamaw, will I have to get naked in front of the lady?”

Chris squeezed her hand.  “No.  She’ll wrap a measuring tape around your chest two times and give us a number and a letter.  That’s your size.  Then she’ll bring you a few different kinds to try on, we’ll figure out which one fits you the best and we’ll get you two or three of them.”

“Oh, okay.”  She seemed to relax a little in Chris’ grip.  “And this isn’t a training bra?”

Chris smiled at her.  “Nope.  You’ve got honest to goodness tits, honey.”  She tried not to chuckle at Lily’s sudden blush.  “And before you start worrying about how big they are or whether or not boys will like them, let me tell you two things- boys like boobs no matter what size they are, so if any of them ever touch them without your permission, you sock ‘em one right in the balls.  Second- no matter how little you think they are, remember that Vanessa’s are _all_ fake, and you’ll always have better ones than her, because yours are natural.”

Lily’s mouth opened in shock.  “Nessie’s boobs aren’t even _real_?  How come?”

“She wanted bigger ones,” Chris answered as she looked both ways before leading Lily across the street.  “Did you ever get a peek at ‘em?  They don’t _move_ …  Real boobs move and sway and jiggle.  It’s like she’s got two lumps of concrete on her chest.  And they were smaller than yours when she had it done, or so she says.  I told her she should have gotten her money back, but she likes ‘em and Uncle Vato likes ‘em, so I guess that’s all that matters.”

They finally made it, only two doors away from the boutique now, when the ice cream parlor door opened and two girls and a boy stepped out.  The noticed Lily and called out to her.  Lily on the other hand looked mortified and ready to bury her face in Chris’ coat to keep from being seen.

“Hey, Lily!  Hello, ma’am!” the little blonde girl said, smiling at both of them.

“Whatcha out doin’, Lil?”  This from the boy who had a horrible cowlick at the back of his head.

Pure panic had washed over Lily’s young face.  “Well…  uhh, w-we were, ah-”

“We’re looking for a present for her mother,” Chris chimed in.  “She just found out she’s having another baby!”  Which was true.  Riza had just told them not even a week ago that Baby Mustang #3 was on the way.

The girls clasped their hands in front of them excitedly, squealing about how cute babies were and wondering if it would be a boy or a girl, whether or not it would look like the handsome Führer or more like his beautiful wife.  The young man however seemed completely disinterested as he picked at the dirt under his stubby nails.

“Well, we won’t keep you, Lily!” the blonde girl said.  “Hope you find the perfect gift!”

She and the other two children waved at her as they left down the way Chris and Lily had just come, and as soon as they were out of sight, Lily heaved a sigh of relief.

“That was a close one,” she groaned.

“Really, kiddo,” Chris said as she rolled her eyes.  “You’re acting as if you have a blinking sign around your neck telling everyone where we’re going!”

Lily looked over her shoulder, supposedly to see if her friends were still watching them.  Apparently discovering they were nowhere in sight, she quickly ducked into Bianca’s Boutique.

Once inside, Lily seemed to become even more worked up.  Chris leaned down and whispered into her ear.  “You said the other day you wanted to be one of my informants.  If you can’t even be cool enough to get measured for a bra, how can you do that?  Pull yourself together.  Think of this as an assignment.  Play a part or something, but stop acting like a raccoon in a cage.”

That seemed to snap her out of her ridiculous behavior, or at least cover it up.  An older woman dressed in a fine professional skirt suit approached them- Ms. Bianca herself.

“Madame Christmas, how wonderful to see you again!” she exclaimed.  “What can I do for you on this pretty spring day?  I’ve got a new garter belt in, one with a built in panty _and_ a control panel!  Shall I fetch one for you to try on?”

Chris grinned at her.  “Actually, I was wondering if you would measure my granddaughter for a bra.  The Holy King brought her boobs this past Yule!”

She half expected Lily to run out screaming at that comment.  Instead, she laughed and stuck her hand out to Ms. Bianca.  “She kids, Freya brought them for an early Ostara gift!  I’m Lily Mustang, pleasure to meet you Ms. Bianca!”

The salt-and-pepper headed woman lifted her brows at Chris.  “What a charming young lady!  Must get it from her father!”

Chris scoffed.  “Child gets it from _me_!   And money’s no object, I’d like to get her something to keep her ‘gifts’ from sagging too early.”

Ms. Bianca smiled at both of them.  “Of course, Madame.  Miss Mustang, if you’ll please follow me to a fitting room, I’ll get you measured quickly!”

Lily looked nervously over her shoulder as she followed the woman away from Chris, and her grandmother nodded once to encourage her.  Not even a minute later, the shop owner returned to the sales floor.

“She’s such a darling.  You must be so proud,” she commented as she searched various racks for the right size.  “And endowed too!  She’s a 28 B!”

Chris chuckled.  “The women on both sides of her family tree have been blessed with bosoms, it’s no surprise she’s already so big.”  She took the brassieres from Bianca.  “I’ll go help her figure it out.”

“Remember,’ Bianca cautioned, “have her do the bend over test to be sure that band doesn’t creep up her back or cut her in half, and make sure she’s not falling out the bottom or the top.”

Chris nodded and knocked on Lily’s door as Bianca greeted another customer.  “It’s me,” she said.  The door opened a crack and she slipped inside.

Lily looked relieved as she began to unbutton her blouse.  “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Told ya so.  Here,” she said, handing her a satin and lace bra that was tastefully aimed for the younger demographic.  “When you get the girls in the cups, I’ll help ya with the back.”

Lily must’ve tried all of them on twice.  Strap adjustments, proper positioning within the cups, adjusting the hooks…  After about an hour, her son’s oldest daughter had decided on a simple  flexible wire bra, plain cotton, lined just enough to prevent embarrassing ‘pebbles’ should she get a chill.  Lily chose the light pink, pale blue and white ones, each featuring a tiny satin ribbon at the sternum.  Ms. Bianca let her wear the blue one out of the store while she wrapped up the other two and Chris paid.  She made Lily carry her own bag, which seemed to further embarrass her.

“You like ‘em dontcha?” she asked as they began the walk back to the Mustang estate.

“Yes, of course,” Lily answered, her face pink as the roses in the garden where she lived.

“Then don’t be ashamed for the things you like.”  She fished out a cigarette and lit up.  “If other people try to make you feel bad, just step around them and go on your merry way, and that goes for everything- from sex to ice cream, if someone don’t like it, forget ‘em.”

“Mamaw!” she whispered.  “Don’t talk about… about… _that_ in public!”

“What, sex?”

Lily whimpered, looking away and nodding.

Chris chuckled, blowing smoke from her nose.  “Alright.  But I was thinking…  Maybe it’s time we had that talk your mother keeps putting on the back burner…”  This time Lily groaned and hid her face in her free hand.

“Oh gods, please!”

“Hey, there’s a reason I wanna be the one to do it, anyhow.  There’s a reason people around here call me Madame…  I think it’s time you learned why, and why you shouldn’t want to be called that.”

Lily stopped them on the sidewalk.  “Daddy always said it was a respect thing, from the old days.”

Chris sighed.  “Honey, we got a lot to talk about, because that ain’t even close to being the truth.”  The serious and slightly panicked look her granddaughter gave her made her heart sink.  Chris reached down for her hand and squeezed it.  “Why don’t we call your mom and tell her you’re staying for dinner with me and Papaw.  We can talk about it while he goes to the market.”

Lily nodded, her face pale as if she were about to be sick on the sidewalk.  Instead of walking all the way back to the Führer’s estate, they turned and made the shorter trip to where she and Braeda lived.  She found her husband on the porch, tending to some potted shade plants.  He looked up when he heard two pairs of footsteps on the steps.

“Hey ladies!” he said brightly, standing up to give Lily a hug.  “My favorite guest is here!  You staying for dinner?”

Lily nodded.  “Mamaw said it was alright, though I feel bad for showing up unexpected.”

Braeda waved her comment away.  “Please, baby.  We got enough to feed you and four or five of your friends if you wanted!”

“I told her you made the best shrimp Aerugo I’ve ever tasted,” Chris said, winking at him over Lily’s head.  “But I don’t think there’s any shrimp in the icebox.”

Braeda scratched behind his ear in response, his indication that he’d received her message- _give us some alone time_.  “Hmm, yeah I think I used the last of it up when I made the Xingese style noodles the other night.  Guess I’ll have to go to the meat shop.  And I’ll probably need a loaf of Aerugoan bread…  Might take me a bit to get the stuff I need- you don’t mind waiting a bit to eat, do you Lily?”

She smiled as she shook her head.  “Of course not.  I can help when you get back, if you want.”

Braeda kissed her on her cheek.  “It’s a date!  Let me wash up and I’ll be on my way!”  He took his gardening gloves off and beat the dirt off of them before slipping in the house.

Chris leaned over Lily’s shoulder.  “That oughtta give us about an hour.  That’s plenty of time to get it all out.”

They went inside, Lily sitting her bag down in the floor next to the gilded console table by the door in the foyer.  After snagging a cold bottle of soda pop for Lily and a glass of iced tea for herself, she sat Lily on the couch, waving goodbye to Braeda as he stepped out the door.

Madame eyed Lily carefully, reaching out to run her fingertips through her sleek, straight ponytail.  It was a soft black, like Roy’s hair.  Chris said gently, “Your parents never told you the real reason they call me Madame Christmas because it’s not a very good thing to be known for.  I have been many things in my life, and for a large part of it, Madame Christmas was it.  Your Papaw is what made the difference- why you know me as your grandmother who lives in  an ordinary house.”

Lily shifted on the cushion beside her, sitting positively unladylike in her dress- but that was fine.  Chris had told her how she sat in a dress had no bearing on whether or not she was a lady, because in Mamaw’s house, society’s rules didn’t apply.

“So it was a part you played?” she asked.

Chris considered her phrasing.  “Yeah, you could say that.  I certainly was not Madame Christmas when I wasn’t working, so yeah.  That’s actually a really good way to put it.  Still doesn’t excuse the things I did while I played that part, though.”

“What did you do?”

Chris refused to mince her words with her granddaughter.  “Sweetheart, I was a whore.”  She continued as Lily’s yes grew wide, “I owned a brothel with a bar front, even after the Promised Day, mostly to hide my informants.  See, my informants were my hens, the whores who worked under me.  I was the lead hen, the _madam_ , and that’s why all the older people call me Madame Christmas.”

Lily’s face was red and her mouth hung open.  When she finally found her voice, she asked, “Was it all a front?  Or did you _really_ …”

“Oh, I _really_ did.  Made damn good money doing it, too.  That was what I’d done my whole life since I was fifteen, not much older than you are now.”  She paused.  “Actually, I’d been having sex since way before that, only I didn’t know that’s what it was.  Your great-grandfather was a very bad man, and he took my innocence when I was only a child of eleven.”  Chris ignored Lily’s reaction and went on with her story.  “So when I realized what he and I were doing- had _been_ doing all that time- I ran away from home, and that was the only way I could make enough to support myself and stay out of the orphanages.  It wasn’t until I met your grandpa Grumman that I discovered I could broker information and sell that for more than what I was charging for blowjobs.”

Lily was thunderstruck beside her.  Speechless and dumbfounded, she simply stared at the toes of her shoes.  She reached for the sweating glass bottle sitting on a coaster and chugged it down, followed by a belch that she at least excused herself for.  She looked at Chris, a thousand questions fighting to leave her mouth all at once.

“Mamaw, couldn’t you have done something else?  I mean- the girls at school say when you start doing it with a bunch of different guys that you can get diseases in your… y’know…  And that women like that are all nasty and have no family and do drugs!”

Chris answered her honestly.  “I could make in one hour what a cotton mill would have paid me in a week.   I made in one night more than some girls my age back then made in a month.  I did what I did to make sure I had enough money to run away again whenever I needed to.  I wasn’t going to live my life being molested and raped by my father ever again.  And if I even saw him from a distance, I would have made tracks to the nearest train station and bolted.  Besides, I knew how to stay clean and I could refuse service to anyone I wanted.”  She raised her index finger.  “There is the first lesson.  Always be in control of your body.  If you want to be slapped or pinched like some deviants like, that’s fine so long as it’s your decision.  Anyone ever- _ever-_ touches you in a way you don’t like, you get away.  When I was a young whore, I had that power for the first time in my life.  I couldn’t get my father to stop touching me, but anyone after that who touched me in a way I didn’t like, didn’t get to keep doing it.”

Lily’s face burned, then she quietly admitted, “That boy we ran into today…  He…  I let him touch my nipples once behind a tree at school- through my dress.  I-I liked it, a lot.”

Chris nodded.  “That’s natural, sweetie.  You’re at that age where your hormones are starting to change how you feel about boys and how your body looks and feels.  As long as it’s enjoyable and it’s _safe_ , then don’t hold back.  Well,” she conceded, “You really should wait until you’re a little older.  Sex is better when your body is mature enough to handle all those exhilarating sensations at once- and I can say that because I was having sex when I was eleven and know how much I didn’t like it.  It was much better when I was seventeen.”

“And Papaw knows you were a madam?”

Chris laughed loudly.  “Honey, he came to my bar and bought my services!”

“No!  Not Papaw, too?”  She dramatically flopped forward onto Chris’ leg, her face in her hands.  “But Papaw’s not like that!  He’s not some dirty guy in a trench coat, drooling over all the cute girls and then making off with some whore!”

“Lily, I know you don’t understand how the world at large works yet, but not every lonely guy is a dirty creep.  Braeda wasn’t like that when he came to see me that first time.  He was dressed neatly and was clean, not salivating all over the place like those cartoon wolves you see in the funny pages of the paper.  He gave me an amount of money based on what he wanted and I obliged.  And it was because of him that I _quit_ whoring.  I had all but retired already, but when we started really dating, the first thing he told me was he wanted to get me out of that brothel.”  She patted Lily on her shoulder.  “Y’know Lil, _everyone_ is a person.  It doesn’t matter what they do for living, what kind of demons plague them or where they work, everyone is a person who deserves to be treated kindly and with respect.  You think I liked being a whore?  Knowing the way the men looked at me like I was some kind of object?  Knowing that some women looked at me and wondered if it was me their husbands had banged in a moment of drunken uncertainty?  I wanted something better for myself.  I didn’t dream of doing that when I was a little girl- I actually wanted to ride horses in jumping competitions!  The ladies I worked alongside all had families, dreams, some kind of screw up that led them to where they were.  Which leads me to lesson two- you really can’t judge a book by its cover.  What you assume is a worthless hooker is actually a woman trying to feed three children after her husband ran off and left her with a mortgage and two kids in diapers, one dime away from being homeless.”

“Mamaw… I didn’t know-”

“It’s alright,” she soothed.  “You do now, and that’s what counts.  Now, one last thing before Papaw gets back.  You understand how sex works, right?”

Lily nodded.

“Tell me.”

Lily was flustered and complained that she couldn’t just _spit it out_ like that.  Chris explained that she wanted to be sure Lily had it right, that she hadn’t been misled and understood how things really were.

“After all, I am a professional in the trade, my dear.”

“The man puts his thingy into the woman’s thingy, then they rub against each other until it feels good.”  Her face looked hot enough to set a match to light.  “And when the man’s thingy spits up, it makes a baby.”

Chris grinned.  “That’s _procreation_ , but let me tell you about _recreation_.”  She explained to her oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, fetishes, role playing, the importance of foreplay and proper lubrication, rubbers, toys- the whole gamut.  When she was finished, she asked Lily if she had any questions.

“I heard it hurts the first time,” she said quietly.

“It can, if you’re not ready.  If your partner- boy or girl- takes the time to make sure you’re comfortable and slick, it should only feel weird at first.  Not painful, not scary, just a little strange.  But then it starts to feel really good and it’s the best, really.  But if you’re scared or change your mind, demand they stop.  If they really love you, they will.  If not…  Hit ‘em over the head with the nearest blunt object and run, if you can.  If not, wait ‘til you can slip off and call the cops once you’re safe.”

He granddaughter looked up at her and smiled.  “You certainly don’t let anyone get away with anything, do you?”

“Nope.  Only your daddy when he was young.  He was quite adorable when he was little.  Hard to stay mad at him, the little shit!”

They both laughed at that, then Lily asked a question.  “So what do you do now?  Do you still sell information or did you retire completely?”

Chris took a drink of her tea.  “Vanessa runs it all now, but sometimes I still deal with clients who refuse to barter with anyone other than me.  By the way, that stair case at the restaurant, the skinny one you’re never allowed to go on?”  Lily nodded.  “That’s the brothel.  We still have it, and the girls still use it.  I lived there in the biggest room until Braeda came along.”  She tucked Lily’s hair behind her ear.  “I could talk to Vanessa, get her to straighten up a little and I could show it to you sometime, so you’d know what a whore’s room really looks like.”

Lily didn’t answer, which was just fine as Braeda was returning home anyway.  Chris rose to her feet, saying, “You think about it, I’ve got a little while yet before this old heart gives up.”

As promised, Lily helped with dinner, swapping jokes with her Papaw as she carefully cut up broccoli while Braeda peeled and deveined the shrimps.  After a full meal complete with homemade ice cream from the pie shop, Chris kissed Lily goodbye as Braeda pulled the car around to take her home.  No sooner had they left the curb, Chris was hustling back inside.

She picked up the phone and dialed her son’s estate and asked the butler for Riza.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey honey, it’s done.”

Riza sighed in relief.  _“How much did you tell her?”_

“Everything.  Every single thing, from what happened to me as a kid, to how I met her Papaw.  She knows about the birds, the bees, the brothel and everything else in between.  And she’s got three new bras as well- 28 B!”

_“Oh my goodness!, I knew she’d grown but I wasn’t expecting_ that _!”_

“The Talk” that Riza had been dreading for so long resolved itself when Chris asked if she could have the pleasure of doing it in her place.  She never had a daughter of her own to pass these things on to, as Roy had earned his education firsthand as a witness, never having to be told when all he had to do was observe.  “I made her promise when Braeda was getting the car that she wouldn’t say anything to anyone, except to tell Lucy the same things when she turns eleven, if I’m not around when that happens.”

_“Don’t talk that way, Madame.  You’ll be here longer than all of us!”_ Riza teased.  _“Oh, they’re here.  Thank you so much for everything.”_

Chris hung up the phone and went out on the porch for a smoke, waiting for her husband to return.  When he did, and after he put the car away, he joined her on the porch swing, one alchemically reinforced to handle their combined weight.

He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulder.  “Did you say everything you needed to say?”

She grinned at him.  “Yep.”

“Leave anything out?”

“Nope.”  Her hand squeezed his knee.  “But I’m thinking I should haul out the typewriter and write it all down.  Y’know, to pass on to Lucy when she’s old enough, just in case I’ve kicked the ol’ bucket by then.”

Braeda shook his head.  “One, that’s not gonna happen.  Two, I type better than you, so you just dictate to me what it is you want to say, and we can put it in an envelope to give to Roy and Riza to keep for all their children, how’s that sound?”

Chris leaned over for a kiss.  “Sounds good by me.”  She began to chuckle.  “I met her little boyfriend today.”

Her husband’s eyes widened.  “The one she keeps saying isn’t anybody special?”

“Oh he’s special, alright.  She told me she let him feel her up- and she liked it.”

She watched his jaw tense up.  “Roy won’t have to worry about burning him to a crisp if I get to the little shit first.  Won’t be anything left to burn when I finish with him!”

Chris stood up.  “Let her have her fun.  In the meantime, you and I could have a little fun, if ya like.”

Braeda stood to join her, but he still wasn’t through with subject of Lily’s special young male friend.  “I mean it, Chris- this little punk hurts her-”

“And _she_ can take care of him.  She knows what to do, let her do it.”

“You promise?”

Her cackling softened his expression.  “It’s a good thing you and I _don’t_ have daughters of our own!  Look at you- you’re a mess!”  She took his hand.  “Just let that little lad try somethin’, she’ll either have him knocked out on his back or put away in the delinquent’s home for a very long time.”  She went on to assure him it was just schoolyard curiosity and nothing serious.

At last he relaxed and ushered her back in the house.  “You’re right- good thing we don’t have children.  I don’t think I could take it!”  Thy each said a little prayer for Roy and Riza- thankful for their own childlessness.


	38. Day-O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braeda gets annoyed at the cutesy romance his coworker and Chris’ best employee share over a bit of watermelon- until Chris reminds him of one of their earliest encounters together.

Braeda rolled his eyes as he watched Falman hanging out with Vanessa, the two of them using the excuse of fruit drippings to make out like teenagers.  
  
“What’s that scowl for?” Madame Christmas asked around her cigarette.  “Jealous or something?”  
  
He shook his head.  “No, it’s just mixing produce and sex is wrong.”  
  
“Why’s it wrong?  You eat strawberries and pussy, I eat oranges and cock- same difference.”  
  
Braeda’s face scrunched at the thought.  “Yeah but you don’t eat both at the same time!  That’s just nasty!”  
  
Chris started chuckling, quietly at first, then a little louder.  Braeda frowned.  “What’s so funny?”  
  
She wiped a tear from her eye. “You didn’t think so that time with the kiwis!”  
  
Oh lord…  He’d forgotten _completely_ about the kiwi incident!  He’d been seeing her for a few weeks then, and she demanded he let her suck him off, and went so far as to demonstrate her technique upon a wax banana and a pair of wax kiwis in a decorative bowl on top of her chest of drawers.  He’d never been so compelled to lose his britches in all his life, watching how she worked those wax creations in her mouth.  
  
She smirked.  “Why so red faced, Captain?”  
  
He got up from his seat, came around the end of the bar, and tugged her by the hand to follow him up the steps.  “I think you need to show me that again.”  
  
When she started singing the banana boat song, he lost it.


	39. Knowing the Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One thing after another all day leads Braeda to his favorite bar- until something he sees shatters his heart into a million tiny pieces.

Bright and early at five thirty that morning, Braeda had been awoken by the sound of two cats fighting and chasing each other under his window.  In his groggy stupor to find something to hurl at them to get them to leave, he stubbed his pinkie toe on the dresser.  The bright red pain that shot through his foot served to wake him so fully that any chance of catching the last fifteen or so of those forty winks was lost.  
  
To make matters worse, Falman forgot to bring more coffee in with him, so instead of the good stuff, they were forced to drink the swill from the mess hall.  He wondered if the garage had forgotten to dispose of the old oil from the maintenance tank and used that for the percolators instead.  
  
Braeda spent most of the day in a fog, unable to concentrate or motivate himself to do much of anything.  At one point, he was certain Hawkeye had fingered the safety on her pistol as she gazed at him staring at the pages in front of him.  He almost asked Havoc for a cigarette to see if that would perk him up.  
  
He caught his shorts in the trouser zipper in the latrine and put a hole in them.  It was his favorite pair, too- bright red silk with a very small brass button on the waist band.  Beyond irritated at the way this day was going, he punched the tiled wall…  only to crack two tiles and hurt his hand in the process.  
  
At last it was time to go home.  It had been one of those days that just needed to be over.  He made his way (carefully!) down the streets of Central until his feet carried him to the Christmas Inn.  He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day slip away in anticipation of an ice cold beer, a shot of rum (maybe two, with the day he’d had and all), and the best company a guy could ask for, all dressed in bold colors, dripping in gold rings, and almost flaunting a white fur trimmed coat.  
  
Braeda stepped forward and pulled the door open.  All the girls were busy, except Vanessa, who stood behind the bar filling drink orders.  
  
“Heya, Captain!” she called, winking at him.  “You want the usual?” she asked.  
  
“Of course!” he replied, taking a seat at the bar.  He looked around.  “Where’s the Madame?”  
  
Vanessa’s big blue eyes flicked to a booth in the corner.  “She’s working.”  
  
Braeda’s heart plummeted into his boots.  She’d told him how she felt about him.  Told him that he was special.  But she’d also told him she was still a working girl.  He remembered how she had a hard time telling him that if someone requested her, or if she needed to use her body and her skills to get information for a client, she’d have to do it.  
  
Knowing that it meant nothing didn’t make it hurt any less.  
  
She flirted with ease and dripped sexual confidence.  Even watching her, he knew she was playing the part, that it wasn’t actually _her_ on the prowl for the middle aged man who wore a fine grey vest and black pants.  When the man lit her cigarette for her and she licked her lips seductively before puffing at the flame, he felt his heart break into jagged, cutting pieces.  
  
“Hey,” Vanessa murmured, putting her hand over his.  “It’s just business.  We all know you’re her pet.”  
  
He felt sick.  His barmaid wasn’t having it.  She settled a second shot in front of him.  “Keep drinking ‘em down until you can stop watching her.”  She glanced over in Chris’ direction.  “You’re making her nervous.”  
  
“I should just go,” he said reaching for his wallet.  
  
“Stay.  You’re my business right now.”  
  
“I’m not going upstairs with you,” he said gently.  “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”  
  
She laughed and turned to grab a deck of cards from under the bar.  “I didn’t ask you to.  My job is to entertain you, in any number of ways, and right now- you need some rum and gin.”  
  
She shuffled the cards and dealt out a hand of gin rummy to distract him.  He muttered his thanks and proceeded to arrange his hand, doing his best to ignore the flirty deep laughter his favorite whore was offering to her john.  
  
But he couldn’t ignore her when they both approached the narrow staircase that led to the brothel upstairs.  He knew those steps well- the third one creaked and the seventh one was a little loose.  The top step was a much darker color than the rest of the steps to hide a blood stain.  
  
“Oh, let me just grab something real quick,” Chris said as she shuffled behind Vanessa and dug behind the bar.  “Go on up and use the washroom, I’ll be right there!”  
  
Braeda stared at the cards in his hand, trying not to puke, trying not to break her character, trying not to openly sob.  And then he was engulfed by her.  Chris kissed him so deeply he gasped for breath.  Her hand rested soft on his cheek, and he forgot all about hiding the cards he was playing from Vanessa.  
  
She pulled away and whispered into his ear, “I’m sorry, he’s got some high-dollar information I need.  Please don’t be upset, honey.”  
  
“I’ll live.  Go do what you gotta do,” he replied, kissing her once at the corner of her mouth.  
  
“I’ll make it up to ya,” she said before rushing up the stairs.  
  
Vanessa sighed.  “You two are enough to gag a maggot.”  
  
“Shut up and shuffle,” he said, reaching for a fourth rum shooter.  “I’m gonna win this hand, just watch.”  
  
He did win, and by the time he left he could barely put one foot in front of the other.  Chris hadn’t returned to the bar, and neither had her client. Vanessa called him a cab and all but booted him out the door after last call.  He stumbled and staggered into his apartment and didn’t even make it to the bed before tripping over his feet and opting to just sleep half on the living room rug in his uniform.  
  
When he woke to pee, he quickly stripped and made it to bed, only to wake a scant 4 hours later to the phone jangling.  It was then he’d realized it was a Thursday, and the phone was likely Havoc calling to see where he was, because it was quarter to ten.  
  
Braeda grumbled, hangover already in high gear, and tugged on a fresh uniform after soaking his head in the sink.  Before he could get his boots on, he stubbed his toe again, a different one this time, blessedly.  He shook his head as he examined the thing before putting his sock on.  
  
“Not another one of those days,” he groaned.


	40. Fishin' Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a long, long while since they’ve been fishing. Braeda hopes it’s nothing serious.

Braeda was just about to tug on his gardening gloves and head out to the patio when the phone rang.  Chris answered and he grinned at her response once she knew who it was.  
  
“My favorite blond!  When you gonna come in town and give _me_ some sugar, huh?  Does Sciezka keep you on such a tight leash you can’t even come visit an old broad?”  There was some humming in agreement, some nodding on her end, then a low grunt of disappointment.  
  
“Fine, I guess you can talk to him.  But I still wanna see you when you come in!”  She turned to Braeda and said, “It’s Havoc.”  
  
He smiled as he took the receiver from her.  “Hey buddy, what’s up?”  
  
 _“We need to go fishing.”_  
  
Braeda blinked.  “What’s wrong?”  
  
 _“You know the rules.  I can’t say until I have a beer in my hand and the bait in the water.”_ He sounded spooked, like something had scared him bad- and Jean Havoc didn’t scare easily.  
  
Braeda said, “No, you’re right.  When do you wanna go?”  
  
 _“I’m halfway to Central right now.”_  
  
Braeda was taken aback.  “Dude, are you sure everything’s-”  
  
 _“I’ll swing by to get you in about two hours.  Have some beer and sandwiches ready.  I’ve got the rods and tackle box.”_ He said to be waiting outside ready to go and then he hung up, leaving Braeda concerned and guessing.  
  
“What was that about?” Chris asked.  
  
He shook his head.  “Guy thing.  Everything’s fine.”  He kissed her cheek.  “We’re gonna go fishing later this afternoon.  Did you have plans for me today?”  
  
She helped him fill a basket with some lunch and a cooler with some beers, and Havoc rolled up outside two hours later, right on time.  Chris yelled at him for kidnapping her boyfriend and not even coming in to say hi to her, and then they were off.  
  
“You want me to drive?” Braeda offered.  “You’ve been going nonstop since Camden.”  
  
He shook his head.  “I wanna get to the lake.”  
  
“You can just spit it out,” Braeda said.  “It sounds really important, maybe you shouldn’t wait.”  
  
He remained silent until they made it to McHeady Lake, trekked around the bank until the woods were at their back.  
  
“Gimme a beer,” Havoc said as he hastily tied a lure on the line and cast out.  As soon as he popped the top and took a swing, his big secret came out.  
  
“Sciezka’s pregnant.”  
  
It dawned on Braeda now why he was adamant that no one heard- Havoc had absolutely no idea what to do.  
  
“Yours?” Braeda asked as he made a cast for himself.  
  
“Of course, asshole,” Havoc grunted as he sat down on the bait bucket and Braeda sat down on the ‘take home’ bucket.  “She told me last night.”  
  
They were quiet a moment.  “You gonna marry her?”  
  
“Fuck, I don’t know.  I mean, Sciezka’s wonderful, so much better for me than Rebecca was…  But we’ve only been going steady for about two months.  I don’t know if I’m ready for all this so soon.”  He turned to Braeda.  “Do I look like _I_ could be someone’s father?  I barely have myself together enough to get out of bed and go to work every day.  Now I gotta be responsible, not just for myself but Sciezka and a goddamn _baby_ …”  
  
“Shoulda been wearin’ a rubber, dumbass.”  
  
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda, alright?  Besides, it ain’t gonna change anything now.”  
  
Braeda took a drink of his beer before reeling back in and trying again.  “Well, how does she feel about it?”  
  
Havoc’s face softened.  “Over the moon.  She kept telling me how wonderful it was that we were going to have a little one.”  
  
Braeda punched him in the shoulder.  “You should see your face.  I think when you stop being scared, you’re a little happy about it, too.  I know you feel different about her compared to Becca.  Maybe it’s just the suddenness of it that’s got you all unsettled.”  His line jerked and he picked up the rod, trying to hook the fish nibbling on his bait.  
  
“There’s a reason it takes babies nine months to come out.  Gives ya plenty of time to wrap your head around the idea,” Braeda commented as he began to fight the fish up to the bank.  The rest of the afternoon, they talked of everything else- how the store was doing in Fulda, how his mom was, about the bear he shot while hunting with his brother.  By the time they were ready to leave, he seemed calmer about the situation facing him.  
  
Before he finished his last beer and pulled his line from the water, Havoc said, “Y’know, I did tell her whatever she decided to do I would be right beside her.  You don’t have to worry about me running off and leaving her with a bastard.”  
  
Braeda nodded.  “Thank you.  That means a lot to me, but I’m sure it means a whole lot more to her.”  He put the last fish in the bucket and smiled at him.  “I think you’ll find out you’re gonna be cut to be a dad.  I’ve always thought you’d be a good father some day.”  
  
Havoc shook his head, grinning.  “Why’d you never tell me?”  
  
Braeda raised his beer at him.  “You know the rules- beer in hand, line in water.”  
  
He laughed and reeled in his hook.  “Seems kinda childish, don’t it?  Stupid guy rules…”  
  
“I don’t think grown ups follow those rules.  And if you’re gonna be a dad, you’re certainly a grown up.”  Braeda stomped his can flat and put it in the brown bag they were using to collect their trash.  “Whaddya say we abolish the guy laws?”  
  
“Sounds good to me,” Havoc agreed.  
  
When Sciezka became pregnant again almost two years later, he would tell his friend over the phone, completely ignoring the rules.


End file.
